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THE  NEW  WORLD 

WITH   OTHER  VERSE 


BY 
LOUIS  JAMES  BLOCK 


9 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

27  West  Twenty-third  Street  24  Bedford  Street,  Strand 

Sjjc  ^nicherbocktt  |)rcss 
1S05 


Copyright,  1893 

BY 

LOUIS  JAMES  BLOCK 


I 


tlbe  Knickerbocker  ipress,  "Mew  Jtjorb 


TO 

EDMUND   CLARENCE   STEDMAN 

POET,  CRITIC,  FRIEND    OF    POETS 

THIS   BOOK 

IS    ADMIRINGLY   AND   LOYALLY    INSCRIBED 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths  i 
Last    Movement    of    the    Symphony.      (Allegro 

Maestoso) 19 

Goethe 21 

Revelation 42 

Dante 43 

Protagoras 51 

Plato 53 

Orpheus 72 

David  Swing 75 

The  Garden  Where  there  is  no  Winter    .        .  78 

James  Russell  Lowell 79 

Sleep 82 

Walt  Whitman 84 

Drinking  Song 87 

Alice  Cary 88 

Epicedium 89 

Edmund  Clarence  Stedman 91 

At  Every  Crisis 93 

Roses 97 

The  New  World 99 


NOTE. 

The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths  was  read  in  part  at  the 
Parliament  of  Religions,  held  in  Chicago  during  the  month  of 
September,  1S93. 

The  New  World  was  published  in  the  summer  of  1893, 
and  is  reproduced  here  as  it  is  now  otherwise  out  of  print. 
"When  it  first  saw  the  light  of  day,  it  was  called  El  Nuevo 
Mundo,  but  I  have  thought  best  to  translate  the  title. 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  THE  FAITHS 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  THE  FAITHS. 


'T^HE  voice  of  the  Soul  to  the  Great  and  High 

"I  know  you  for  Life  of  my  life, 
I  know  you  for  Light  of  mine  eyes, 
I  long  for  your  infinite  calm  ; 
Forth  from  the  storm  and  the  strife, 
The  rumor  of  days  and  the  blackness  of  sky, 
The  rush  of  the  manifold  cries, 
I  would  fleet  to  the  realm  where  hope 
Finds  builded  and  shaped  her  uttermost  scope, 
To  the  region  afar  where  your  touch  and  brow 
Fill  all  the  winds  with  perfume  and  balm, 
The  towers  not  wrought  of  hands, 
The  heart's  imperishable  now, 
The  achievement's  marvellous  lands. 
I  know  from  your  bosom  I  came, 
Your  secret  of  love  and  of  flame  ; 
I  long  through  the  cloud-swept  passage  of  night 
For  the  clear  resurgence  of  you  and  of  light ; 
I  feel  your  breath  on  my  deepest  of  will ; 
I  know  you  near  whatso  darkness  I  tread, 
I  see  you  beside  my  sleepless  bed, 
3 


4  The  Friends  J  tip  of  t  lie  Faiths. 

I  answer  your  life  and  its  wondrous  thrill. 
Through  all  the  ages'   turmoil  have  I  yearned  to 

you, 
Through  all  the  periods  have  I  prayed  to  you, 
From  depth  of  strangest  sorrows  have  I  burned  to 

you, 
From  farthest  paths  my  supplications  have  been 

made  to  you. 
How  have  I  ever  sought  you, 
Down  what  dim  streams  and  through  what  mountain 

passes, 
The  flight  of  the  bright  sun  across  the  stretching 

skies, 
In  meadow  lands  amid  lush  grasses, 
In  mine  own  chasms  of  aspiration, 
And  loftiest  thought's  world-circling  peace  ; 
Yet  in  what  shape  soe'er  I  wrought  you, 
Calling  upon  you  with  what  pain-impassioned  cries, 
Seeking  your  height  of  shining  pure  release 
From  agony  of  limitation, 
I  knew  you  for  the  goal  and  end 
To  which  my  feet  must  ever  wend, 
I  knew  you,  O  Transcendent  One, 
As  Heart  of  hearts  and  Soul  of  souls, 
Unchanging,  perfect,  golden-same, 
Master  of  death  and  victory  won 
Over  dark  grief  that  speeds  and  rolls, 
Helper  and  Guide  and  Firm  to  tame 
The  surging  nations  to  your  pregnant  Will, 
The  Strength  beneficent  that  throbs  and  beats 
Through  space's  vastness  and  must  still 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  5 

Past  winter's  snows  and  summer's  heats 

Lead  to  the  many-portaled  city  where 

You  are  the  glowing  and  the  girdling  air, 

Spirit's  attainment  and  the  unison 

Of  all  you  love  in   joy's  completeness  unbegun  ! " 


Response  from  the  uttermost  deeps  : 

"  Children  of  mine  are  you  all, 

I  bore  you  forth  into  the  void, 

Forth  into  Time's  unresting  hall 

Where  the  wind  of  change  leaps  up  and  sweeps, 

Where  day  arises  and  night  is  destroyed, 

Where  the  myriad  song  awakes  and  rings 

Of  the  wide  divisive  universe  of  things  ; 

I  bore  you,  my  manifold  sons, 

In  a  stream  that  unceasingly  runs  ; 

I  gave  you  my  whole  of  being 

For  your  behoof  and  mastery  and  seeing  ; 

Yea,  I  gave  you  the  veriest  soul  of  me, 

The  innermost  might  of  completeness  and  self, 

The  strength  that  binds  forever  in  one 

All  in  the  world  that  is  thought  and  done, 

The  source  and  the  promise  of  liberty  ! 

You  shall  be  more  than  blossom  or  elf, 

More  than  the  patient  growths  of  the  field, 

More  than  the  music  the  great  seas  yield, 

More  than  the  suns  around  which  dance 

The  jubilant  planets,  yea,  more 

Than  gods  who  know  not  anguishings  sore 


6  The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths. 

And  dwell  forever  in  dalliance 

With  heaven's  own  glories,  unproven,  untempted  ; 

You  shall  arise  to  spirit  and  truth 

Out  of  the  stark  sheer  darkness  of  nought, 

Your  destiny  woven  and  wrought 

By  strength  of  will  that  glows  dirempted, 

But  gladly  given  to  the  Will  that  is  mine  ; 

Lo  !  from  the  world's  beginning  and  youth, 

Throughout  its  latter  wonder  and  glory, 

The  joyous,  the  growing,  the  dominant  story  ; 

Clearer  the  light  and  the  life  of  me  shine, 

Brought  to  divinest  returning  splendor, 

My  sons  becoming  myself  as  attender 

On  the  fire  that  is  centre  and  mid, 

On  the  glow  that  am  I  and  God, 

A  rebuilding  fair  of  the  life  that  was  hid 

In  every  struggling  period, 

The  soul  self-fashioned  and  an  offering  free 

On  mine  altar,  Freedom,  not  Mystery  !  " 


Through  the  broad  field  of  Time 

The  rush  and  the  tumult  ran  ; 

Subtle  and  deep  the  voice  from  the  holier  clime 

Spoke  in  the  heart  of  battling  man. 

Clad  in  the  soiling  bondages  of  earth 

He  felt  within  him  the  surge  of  a  nobler  birth. 

The  smallest  flower  that  grew, 

The  winds  that  veering  and  careering  blew, 

The  stars  that  covered  the  midnight  sky, 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  7 

The  sun  in  his  fiery  triumph  on  high, 

Murmurs  that  came  from  his  innermost  heart, 

Glimpses  that  shone  he  knew  not  whence, 

His  own  life's  gradual  pre-eminence, 

His  thought's  and  his  will's  sure  sovereignty, 

Woke  him  to  knowledges  fair  of  all  that  was  yet  to 

be. 
The  mighty  message  was  the  grander  part 
Of  everything  that  lived  and  toiled  and  sang, 
And  everywhere  the  stronger  music  rang, 
An  all-enveloping  glory  of  revelation 
That  should  at  last  bring  each  uplooking  genera- 
tion 
Into  the  circle  its  benignance  made, 
A  rich  wide  chorus  which  should  purely  be 
The  constant  voice  of  wise  Divinity, 
The  purpose  which  so  long  had  played 
About  the  slow-unfolding  soul 
Risen  to  clearness  and  at  length, 
In  its  white  beauty  and  its  strength, 
Showing  the  union  of  the  whole, 
Which  life  and  time  must  always  serve, 
Freedom  and  worship  and  calm  chastity, 
Suffering  borne  that  the  good  might  be, 
The  golden  sweep,  and  clasping  curve 
Wherein  sweet  justice  holds  all  men, 
The  single  truth  that  sees  its  perfectness 
Holding  the  world  as  with  a  soft  caress, 
Love  that  is  Manhood  finished, 
Life  that  is  Master  of  the  quick  and  dead  ! 


8  The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths. 

IV. 

Therefore  began  the  Search, 

Lit  by  the  light  within, 

From  the  depth  and  darkness  of  sin, 

From  the  foulness  of  earth  and  the  smirch, 

To  the  high  white  pureness  that  has  forever  been  ; 

Heavy  the  weight  of  the  world  upon  them, 

Glamour  and  gloom  of  the  outer  have  won  them, 

Yet  the  sure  instinct  turns 

To  a  fire  that  fadelessly  burns, 

Above  and  beyond  and  spiritual-clear 

And  tender  amid  the  revel  of  fear  ; 

The  rocks  and  the  trees  and  the  serpentine  coils 

Hold  them  amid  their  toils, 

But  the  flame  shines  white 

Above  all  forms  of  sense  or  sight ; 

The  sun  and  the  day  through  shine  and  cloud 

Bear  onward  their  dreams  fulfilled  of  tears, 

And  the  light-flecked  sea's  still  fluctuant  crowd 

Tosses  afar  their  hopes  and  their  fears  ; 

The  ghost-world  of  the  dead 

Glimmers  and  glowers  with  lure  and  with  dread  ; 

The  miracle  of  the  strife 

Appals  with  the  savage  exuberance  of  life  ; 

Service  and  song  and  pain 

Seem  the  grim  paths  unto  gain, 

And  high  in  the  winds  and  the  air 

Images  rise  both  sombre  and  fair, 

Mixtures  of  man  and  of  things, 

Monstrous  gods  and  pure, 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  g 

Splendors  about  whom  all  life  sings, 
Horrors  that  may  not  endure, 
Growth,  beginning,  movement,  and  change, 
Death,  and  sleep,  and  fleetnesses  that  range, 
Circles  on  circles  of  strange  divinities, 
Worship  than  these  that  yet  wilder  is  ; 
But  over  them  and  above 
Hovers  the  hope  of  Love, 
And  the  crescent  white  Light  within 
Promises  itself  and  release  from  the  lessening  base- 
ness and  sin. 


v. 


O  mother  of  nations,  vast  and  visionary, 

Asia,  whose  teeming  loins  sent  both  to  South  and 

North 
Your  myriad  wanderers  forth, 
Toward  the   great  hope  that   glows  and  may  not 

vary 
Your  strong  and  elemental  gaze  was  sent. 
Beside  the  gentler-moving  waves  of  the  great  sea 
Your  worshipping  sons  were  fixed  and  bent 
Before  the  Law's  serene  inviolable  majesty, 
And  Fatherhood  shone   forth  ennobling  and  sub- 
lime, 
Monarch  amid  the  weaknesses  of  Time  ; 
The  grandeur  of  the  large  ancestral  past, 
The  deathless  force  of  all  the  things  that  were, 
Over  your  children  their  divineness  cast 
And  patient  rest  in  power  that  cannot  err. 


io  The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths. 

O  dreaming  mother,  yet  on  high  afar 
And  past  the  dimmest  and  remotest  star, 
Your  eyes  beheld  the  vision  of  the  lonely  calm, 
That  was  to  restlessness  a  lure,  to  agony  a  balm  ; 
You  found  the  way  of  prayer  and  abstinence  and 

thought 
By  which  the  freedom  from  the  body  could  be 

wrought, 
The  mid  of  contemplation  where  arise 
The  peace  and  silence  of  the  painless  skies  ; 
Yet  others  of  your  sons  sought  more  than  peace  ; 
Nobility,  a  flame  at  war  with  night, 
Sent  them  on  conquest's  paths,  bringing  release 
To  multitudes  not  wakened  to  the  sight 
Of  central  radiance  guiding  all  aright  ; 
And  others  roamed  the  crested,  haunted  seas, 
Hoping  somewhere  to  fathom  life's  dark  mysteries  ; 
And  Egypt,  who  was  yours,  sat  questioning 
What  the  cold  voiceless  grave  might  bring  ; 
And  others  saw  within  the  Spirit's  lustrous  deeps 
The  pure  Transcendent  One,  who  ever  keeps 
In  arms  of  sleepless  providence 
The  wavering  soul's  pre-eminence  ; 
And  on  your  vision  glowed  the  miracle, 
That  holds  the  universe  in  omnipresent  spell, 
The  region  of  the  Eternal  where  all  hearts  are  one 
In  the  good  Father,  and  each  heart  a  son, 
Where  life's  each  deed  is  infinite,  complete, 
And  all  are  glad  at  gracious  Freedom's  feet ; 
And  later  came  the  fierce  triumphal  march 
Under  heaven's  variant  arch 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  1 1 

Of  those  who  knew  that  Unity 
Was  lord  and  secret  of  just  prophecy  ; 
O  mysterious  mother  of  us  all, 
In  the  great  day  that  is  to  come, 
In  the  great  fate  that  must  befall, 
Your  voice  shall  gird  with  gold  the  mighty  Music's 
sum. 


VI. 


Unto  the  westering  star, 

Beside  the  midland  sea, 

The  pageant  speeds  and  rolls, 

The  search  which  shatters  each  bond  and  bar, 

The  grasp  of  the  joy  which  must  forever  be, 

The  unanimity  which  is  the  soul's. 

The  dream  of  golden  manhood  burst  and  rose, 

Young  Greece,  victorious  'twixt  the  heavens  and 

earth, 
The  outer  pliant  to  the  thought  that  glows, 
Love,  Light,  and  Equipoise  in  subtle  birth ; 
The  rhythmic  pulses  of  the  spirit  keep 
Equable  flow  with  forest,  hill,  and  dewy  lawn, 
The  sun  for  an  ecstatic  moment  in  a  perfect  dawn 
Resting  unanxious  for  the  wearying  steep, — 
For  a  brief  interval,  and  the  great  toil 
Builds  another  curve  and  coil 
Of  the  self-recurrent  rise 
Unto  the  topmost  skies. 

Rome's  tramp  of  armed  and  relentless  strength 
Wakens  the  echoes  from  the  North  to  South, 


12  The  Friends  J  lip  of  the  Faiths. 

And  conquest  builds  its  passages  at  length 
From  snows  unmelting  unto  ceaseless  drouth. 
The  might  of  Will  Supreme 
Burns  in  the  haughty  eagle's  gleam  ; 
Obedience  firm  unto  the  sterner  law- 
Circles  the  regions  with  its  luminous  awe. 
The  shepherd  star  that  beamed  upon  the  east 
Soared  to  a  flooding  sunshine  and  increased  ; 
The  impassioned  dweller  of  the  forest  felt 
That  radiance  into  his  being  melt  ; 
Forth  from  his  immemorial  woods  Germanic 
The  storm  of  warriors  sweeps  titanic  ; 
Over  the  anguished  tyrant-ridden  world 
The  torrent  was  sent  forth  and  hurled  ; 
The  tumult  soothed  itself  and  life 
Sprang  deepened  from  the  storm  and  strife  ; 
The  inner  glories  woke  and  shone 
Contrasted  with  the  outer's  pain  and  moan  ; 
Heaven's  paramount  spheres  of  sovereignty  spirit- 
ual 
Held  the  roused  heart  in  noblest  thrall. 
Lo  !  by  the  wondrous  midland  sea 
Life  wove  for  itself  a  jewelled  imagery, 
A  garb  of  gemmed  observance  and  a  power 
That  has  unending  labor  for  its  dower, 
A  robe  miraculous  of  song  and  flame  and  tale 
Whose  wearing  calms  all  waywardness, 
Having  strange  might  to  bless 
And  making  wanton  passions  bend  and  quail  ; 
But  where  the  icier  stars  look  forth 
Upon  the  iron  north, 


The  Friendship  of  the  faiths.  1 3 

The  revelation  in  its  whiteness  pure 

Needs  only  its  own  strength  to  draw  and  to  allure  ; 

The  secret  comes  in  mildest  splendor 

Unto  its  worshipper  and  attender, 

The  veilless  Truth  and  all-embracing  Hope 

At  the  unclouded  summit  of  the  nation-travelled 

slope  ; 
Yet  further  westward  turns  the  expectant  gaze 
Across  the  ocean's  ceaseless  roar 
Whence  swift  mysterious  lightenings  pour 
Promises  of  a  newer  morning's  blaze. 


VII. 


Room  for  the  light  and  growth, 

Room  for  the  farthest-reaching  strong  desire, 

Occasion's  golden  portals  open  unto  all  ! 

The  speeding  hours  are  nothing  loth, 

And  every  truth's  soul-circling   and   soul-healing 

gyre 
Finds  the  glad  skies  that  must  befall. 
Over  the  sea's  forbidding  reach  and  long  denial 
The  old  deliverance  fleets  and  toils  as  in  the  past, 
And  once  again  a  noble  trial 
Promises  guerdon  at  the  last. 
The  web  which  the  weary  years  have  fashioned 

well, 
The  garment  made  by  the  toilers  dead, 
Mankind  shall  wear  in  splendor  perfected 
And  peace  amid  them  shall  securely  dwell. 
Truth's  ever-variant  revelations 


14  The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths. 

Like  light  convergent  to  a  single  point 

Shall  bring  together  the  long-severed  nations 

And  the  one  sacred  oil  shall  all  anoint. 

Under  the  buoyant  western  sun 

The  latter  labor  is  begun. 

Land  that  throws  wide  the  wave-swept  shore, 

Land  that  is  Freedom's  at  your  young  heart's  core, 

Blooms  from  the  oldest,  farthest  clime 

Mate  with  your  winds  and  blend  in  rhyme. 

Room  for  the  light  and  growth, 

The  seasons  no  longer  are  loth  ! 

The  mingling  of  lights  in  the  struggling  earth 

Sends  the  white  radiance  from  its  luminous  girth, 

Light  unto  Light  above, 

And  Love  unto  Supreme  Love, 

The  union  of  souls  in  conscious  Soul, 

Reflex  of  Spirit  and  living  prayer 

Surging  to  heaven's  uttermost  pole 

Through  the  divided  rejoicing  air, 

Worship  wherein  all  Time  takes  part, 

Fulfilment,  Attainment,  Destiny  Fair, 

Divinity's  vital,  omnipotent  art, 

Freedom  that  holds  the  world  in  thrall, 

The  stainless  wonder,  God  all  in  all  ! 


VIII. 


Under  the  summer's  latter  skies,  within  the  age's 

latter  years, 
The  friendship  of  the  Faiths  is  sealed,  the  triumph 

over  doubts  and  fears  ; 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  1 5 

From  the  four  quarters  of  the  calmed  winds  the  di- 
verse travellers  come, 

Patient  to  hear  the  voice  of  Truth,  to  hold  the 
Quest's  ungarnered  sum, 

Over  the  world's  unquiet  realm  to  rise  and  pene- 
trate afar 

Into  the  mid  of  spiritual  powers  that  rule  the  sun 
and  every  star ; 

For  round  the  whirl  and  toss  of  things,  above  the 
tumult  and  the  din, 

Perfect  and  pure  and  prevalent,  the  true  gods  dwell 
the  spirit  within, 

The  realm  of  the  ideals  great  where  life  is  ever 
clear  and  whole, 

And  God  himself  in  perfectness  is  mixed  and  joined 
with  every  soul. 

The  suffering  and  the  bitter  tears  of  all  the  hours 
that  gloomed  and  moaned 

Shine  there  like  jewels  fixed  and  part  of  ecstasy 
that  sits  enthroned. 

There  every  life  is  young  and  strong  with  the  whole 
realm's  transcendent  might 

And  darkness  is  but  as  a  change  from  light  to  more 
alluring  light. 

The  wondrous  truths  that  came  and  dwelt  in  visi- 
tations far  and  sweet 

Like  messengers  from  very  God  to  soothe  despair 
and  rouse  defeat, 

While  struggling  man  climbed  up  the  mount  and 
faltered  by  the  anguished  way, 

Have  ever  known  that  region's  calm  and  golden  un- 
diminished day, 


1 6  The  FricndsJiip  of '  t 'he  Faiths. 

Eternal,  incorruptible,  Godhead  before  that  regnant 

God 
Arose  the  master-life  of  space,  and  maker  of  each 

period, 
Serene,  divine,  the  source  of  everything,  the  subtly 

permeant  air 
That  girds  and  welds  the  whole  with  gradual  music 

of  the  ever  fair. 
Spirit  wherein  the  reconcilement  gives  the  victory 

to  all 
Unto  your  looming  home  we  pass  and  freely  are 

your  bond  and  thrall  ; 
For   you  are  Freedom  and  who  freely  yields  his 

deepest  life  to  you 
Becomes  as  one  clothed  on  with  Time  and  mighty 

as  the  morning  new  ; 
Unto  that  goal  Truth's  pilgrims  stern  have  always 

turned  and  there  have  known 
The  heart  of  the  white  Mystery  that  on  true  hearts 

has  ever  shone  ; 
And  the  religious  glow  a  part  of  the  one  Faith  su- 
preme, sublime, 
That  has  nor  severing  height  nor  depth,  nor  differ- 
ence of  age  or  clime  ; 
The  Search  has  been  a  part  of  it,  and  felt  within 

the  small  as  great 
The  passionate  beneficence  of  a  transfiguring  golden 

fate 
That  was  in  everything,  in  cloud  and  sky,  in  death 

and  darkest  sin, 
The   ceaseless    potent   miracle   that   wrought   the 

nobler  life  within. 


The  Friendship  of  the  Faiths.  17 

This  is  the  storied  Citadel  to  which  the  Paths  have 

wound  and  led, 
This  is  the  glorious  finished  toil  for  which  the  Deed 

has  striven  and  bled. 
Here  in  these  latter  sounding  years  the  voice  is 

heard  poured  from  the  sky, 
"  All  men  are  children  of  great  God  and  not  a  child 

of  his  shall  die  !  " 
Here  in  the  Parliament  of  Faiths  is  seen  the  trust 

that  knows  all  men 
Born  of  that  loftiest  realm,  and  strong  as  Truth's 

unquestioned  denizen. 
For  in  the  soul  all  paths  are  one,  and  every  pathway 

must  be  trod 
To  find  that  region's  myriad  dells,  whose  rounding 

wholeness  is  high  God  ; 
And  every  light  that  shone  soe'er  is  part  of  that 

o'ermastering  Light 
Which  every  man  must  make  his  own,  as  regent  of 

his  certain  sight. 
Here   is  the  conclave  catholic,  which   speaks  the 

reconciling  truth, 
Seeking   the    ageless   permanent    life   that    smiles 

above  in  blissful  youth, 
The  conclave  that  is  one  with  aims  that  were  when 

worlds  and  stars  were  nought 
Save  as  they  slept  and  trembled  fair  within  the 

sempiternal  thought, 
The  just  belief,  the  worship  meet,  all  revelation's 

fount  and  source, 
The   light-veiled  chaste  nobility  whence    History 

drew  its  curving  course. 

7 


1 8  The  FriendsJiip  of  the  Faiths. 

Life  grows  divine,  hope's  goal  is  won,  when  the 

Eternal  opens  wide 
His  music-hinged  gates  and  through  and  through 

the  world  is  Heaven's  own  bride, 
When  the  great  Faiths  clasp  hand  and  say  they  are 

the  clear  Transcendent  One's 
Who  will  not  change  whatever  ways   are  those  of 

the  time-travelling  suns. 
Lo  !  search  has  been  his  life  within  the  pulsing 

secret  life  of  man 
And  hope  his  blood  of  reddest  hue  that  through 

the  anguished  heart-beats  ran, 
And  in  the  circle  of  his  hands  benign  shall  rise  the 

Temple  fair 
Wherein  mankind  from  every  star  shall  speak  his 

name  and  breathe  his  air. 


LAST  MOVEMENT  OF  THE  SYMPHONY. 

(allegro  maestoso.) 

"  I  "HE  hushed  and  all-expectant  air  is  cloven 

■*'       By  the  low  throbbing  violins'  golden  murmur, 
And  one  by  one  the  mellow  tones  are  woven 
Into  a  song  that  firmer  grows  and  firmer. 

The  dullard  cares  that  all  our  day  infested 
Have  fled  like  mists  before  the  music's  sun, 

And  fallen  hope  re-arises  and  invested 
With  glow  of  life  that  is  as  triumph  won. 

What  is  the  land  to  which  the  dream  invites  us  ? 
What    the    awakening    thrilling    through     and 
through  us  ? 
Has  Heaven  a  strength  than  this  that  more  delights 
us  ? 
A  fervor  that  can  more  than  this  renew  us  ? 

Instrument  after  instrument  sweeps  exultant 
Into  the  harmony  growing  ever  grander, 

And  the  large  joy  that  is  the  chief  resultant 

Becomes  life's  sovereign  and  divine  commander. 
19 


20         Last  Movement  of  the  Symphony.        , 

The  rush  and  tumult  of  unfettered  passion 

Faded  away  in  solemn  adjuration, 
And  bliss  was  born  in  bright  miraculous  fashion 

Out  of  the  pain  and  scornful  incantation. 

The  melodies  half-uttered,  stammering,  broken, 
Complete  at  last  and  wondrously  united, 

Obey  the  central  song's  soft  luminous  token, 

And    are    as    those   whom    Heaven   itself   has 
plighted. 

The   whole  world's  victory  dwells  in  that  heard 
splendor, 
The    end    attained    for    which   the    Movement 
yearns, 
And  we,  made  part  of  it  and  tranced  attender, 
Know  with  what  purpose  all  great  feeling  burns. 

Which  is  the  true  and  which  the  permanent  real, 
The  daily  pageant  fleeting  past  our  eyes, 

Or  this  ascent  and  mixture  with  the  ideal, 
Whereinto  he  best  lives  who  deepest  dies  ? 

Yea,  song  is  more  than  we  who  love  and  hear  it, 
And  life  is  greater  than  the  hours  that  fly, 

And  music-winged  we  ever  speed  more  near  it, 
The  dream  that  larger  is  than  earth  or  sky. 


GOETHE. 


GOETHE. 


TNTIMATE  strength  of  the  mist-veiled  begin- 
•""         ning, 

Will-winged  purpose  whose  measureless  flight 
Past  life's  pain  and  the  failure  of  sinning 
Seeks  the  high  goal  beyond  hearing  or  sight, 
Into  your  passion  of  hope  and  attainment, 
Into  your  speed  and  glory  of  light, 
I  would  be  borne  and  whither  the  gain  went 
Follow  and  see  the  City  arise 
Answering  the  glow  of  Eternity's  skies. 
Far  off  I  hear  the  dim-toned  murmur, 
Song  that  began  before  Time  was, 
Growing  each  breath  more  gracious  and  firmer, 
Clear  with  the  bliss,  its  parent  and  cause, 
Song  that  has  ever  been  deed  and  achievement, 
Heart  of  the  labors  that  built  up  for  man 
Wondrous  release  from  the  bond  and  bereavement 
That  mocked  the  gropings  of  tribe  and  of  clan, 
From  the  good  gods  poured  forth  and  descended, 
Soul  of  the  victory  certain  to  be, 
Heaven  and  earth  mysteriously  blended 
23 


24  GoetJie. 

In  one  wide-wandering  harmony. 
Ever  the  voice  of  the  Noble  has  sounded 
Through  the  large  reaches  of  vanishing  Time, 
Ever  the  Hope  been  promised  and  grounded 
In  the  sun-mastered  and  permanent  clime. 
Through  the  vague  glooms  of  the  Fate  that  allured 

him, 
Through  the  chill  night  of  defeat  and  despair, 
Song  has  arisen  on  man  and  assured  him 
Somewhere  beyond  was  the  light-swathed  air. 
Around  him  has  always  a  mystical  region  been 

woven, 
Fashioned  of  tones  from  the  poet-struck  lyre, 
Always  the  winds  have  been  severed  and  cloven 
By  the  shaped  music  of  the  deathless  desire. 
World  of  the  singers,  immortal,  eternal, 
World  of  the  spirit  that  flashes  the  clearer, 
Changeless  in    change,    divinely    completed    and 

vernal, 
Truer  than  of  old  and  passionately  nearer, 
We  would  partake  of  your  marvellous  blisses, 
World  that  is  closer  and  dearer  than  this  is. 
Forth  from  our  strange  and  growing  forgetfulness, 
Forth  from  the  noises  that  laugh  and  deride  you, 
Forth  from  the  bitter  regretfulness 
Wherein  we  are  bound  because  of  the  many  who 

denied  you, 
We  fleet  and  again  the  transfiguring  Ideal 
Lifts  its  white  walls  around  and  before  us, 
Taking  to  itself  the  splendor-crowned  real, 
Bringing  us  peace  and  new  calm  to  restore  us. 


Goethe.  25 


What  is  the  secret  that  has  ever  been  ringing, 
Through  the  wide  air  since  the  world  was  young  ? 
Hearken  !     Afar  the  glad  thrilling  singing 
From  the  dim  depths  of  the  mystery  sprung  ! 
Yea,  the  mighty  and  manifold  witnesses 
Speak  the  same  message  in  many  a  tongue, 
Bend  the  same  truth  with  soft  yielding  fitnesses 
Unto  the  heart  with  questionings  wrung  ; 
And  though  to-day  the  duller-brained  scoffer 
Scorns  the  clear  music  as  aimless  and  cold, 
Yet  be  assured  from  the  infinite  coffer 
Grandeurs  are  taken  just  as  of  old. 
Poesy  now  as  in  days  long  ended 
Points  to  the  realm  that  is  freed  from  Time's  chains, 
One   with    deep   thought   that    has    purely    tran- 
scended 
Earth  and  her  ever  mutable  gains. 
Into  that  region  I  venture  to  enter, 
Commune  there  with  those  who  have  been 
Guide  to  all  men  and  heaven-sent  mentor 
On  the  way  upward  we  are  striving  to  win. 
Faint  though  the  words  I  utter  before  men, 
Yet  am  I  certain  they  fell  from  the  lips 
Strongest  of  those  who  have  lived  to  restore  men 
Out  of  the  night  we  walk  and  eclipse, 
Him  of  old  Greece,  and  the  dark-browed  Italian, 
England's  great  master,  all-grasping  and  bold, 
Bringing  each  in  his  swift-sailing  galleon 
Untold  treasures  of  spiritual  gold. 


26  Goethe. 

Take  therefrom  and  their  hands  that  proffer 
Jewelled  leaves  for  his  serene  brow, 
Latest  of  angels,  whose  subtle  dreams  offer 
Latest  of  lights  on  the  paths  we  tread  now. 


in. 


Deep  as  the  encircling  flood  of  the  self-returning 
ocean, 
Holding   the  earth  in  embrace,   perfumed  and 
large  and  strong, 
Calm  in  many-colored  resplendence  and  fierce  in 
commotion, 
Life-giving  ever  and  source  passioned  of  pulses 
that  long 
Still  to  behold  arise  the  nobler  and  loftier  frui- 
tions, 
Where  the  ideals  may  dwell  secure  from  sorrow 
and  wrong, 
Sea  up-bearing  the  ships  full-freighted  of  hopes 
and  their  missions, 
Out  of  the  mist-clad  eld  sweeps  the  impetuous 
song, 
Song  of  the  hero  holding  the  half-formed  world  in 
his  eager 
Purposeful  grasp  that  moulds  fair  to  the  race's 
behoof, 
Bastioned  towers  of  the  soul  against  the  strengths 
that  beleaguer, 
Rising  dim  Nature  above,  holding  grim  Night 
aloof. 


Goethe.  27 

Freest   and   joyfullest   of   voices,    filled   with  the 
mirth  of  the  morning, 
Part  of  the  life  that  is,  life  that  has  overcome 
death, 
Thorough  this  land  of  ours  and  dreams  that  leap 
past  the  scorning 
Pour  the  glow  of  your  life-kindling  service  and 
breath. 
Once  more  on  the  high  quest  we  move  not  east- 
ward but  westward, 
Western  realm  of  the  east,  home  of  the  gods  and 
sun, 
Winning  the  heavenly  beauty  and  passing  evermore 
blestward, 
Toiling  through  day  and  through  night  till  the 
vast  work  be  done. 
Herald  you  of  the  march  of  the  nations  and  des- 
tiny-forecaster, 
Pointing  the  way  unto  men,  knowing  the  far- 
gleaming  goal, 
Wisdom-gatherer  and  giant  of  laughter  and  clear- 
eyed  master, 
Bringing  as  gift  to  the  free  life  that  is  lovely  and 
whole. 
Far  across  the  weary  centuries'  tumult  and  anguish 
Back  we  turn  unto  you,  light's  deep  essence  and 
heart, 
Rousing  our  hearts   from  the  fears  wherewith  we 
are  burthened  and  languish, 
Bathing  ourselves  in  you,  fountain  of  beauty  and 
art, 


28  Goethe. 

Knowing  your  hand  will   help  us   to   weave   the 
crown  and  the  laurel 
Made  for  your  brother  and  peer,  one  of  the  lofty 
line, 
Poets  and  sceptred  kings  whose  words  are  the  force 
and  the  moral 
Wherewith  the  earth  is  glad,  wherewith  her  pure 
eyes  shine. 

IV. 

And  lo  !  the  lord  of  Spirit's  wondrous  regions, 

The  deeper  glories  and  the  inner  splendor, 
The  ecstacies  that  rise  in  golden  legions 

Before  the  suffering-cleansed  and  strong-souled 
wender 
Through  the  new  lands  ;  he  voices  these  divinely, 
And  the  result  that  is  the  act's  attender 

He  urges  ever  on  the  hearts  who  bend  supinely 

In  passion's  onslaught,  and  the  tense  confession 
That  brings  the  sun  looking  forth  more  benignly 

After  the  tempest's  horror  and  obsession. 
The     steep      descent     shows      love     behind     its 
glamour, 
And  freedom  knows  from  a  superb  repression 

How  darkness  grows  self-conqueror  and  tamer  ; 
Lo  !  upward  leads   the   star-watched    mountain 
singing 
Where  blame  becomes  its  own  relief  and  blamer, 


Goethe.  29 

And   strenuous   wisdom   speeds   and   smiles   in 
bringing 
Message  from  life's  last  peak  and  light-veiled  in- 
most ; 

Then    gazing    on    those   soft   strong   eyes   and 
clinging, 

Flight  to  the  Rose  where  they  are  chief  and  win 

most 
Who  have  been  least  amid  earth's  weary  pastime  ! 
Seer   of  the  Hope  whose  strengthening  rule  has 

been  most 

Longed  for  throughout  all  History's  spiring  vast 
time, 
When  the  Achievement  shines  in  its  best  glory 
That  was  at  first  and  shall  be  in  the  last  time, 

What  you  beheld  from  your  high  promontory, 

The  Empire  and  the  Church  in  joy  united, 
We  all  shall  know  as  purport  of  the  story, 

And  on  the  ea-th  delighting  and  delighted 

The  twain  shall  be  as  those  whom  love  has  plighted. 

v. 

Forth  from  the  Spirit  and  again  to  earthward, 
Leaps  the  great  art  that  took  for  its  domain 

All  forms  of  action  and  sped  ever  mirthward 
From  its  own  visions  of  fierce  woe  and  pain. 

Bold  kings  and  lords  and  ladies  fair  and  golden, 


30  Goethe. 

Creatures   of   air   and   those   whose  homes  are 
flowers, 
The  passions  mad  of  ages  past  and  olden, 

The  clear  delights  of  woven  forest  bowers, 
Are  born  anew  into  the  song's  high  clangor, 

And  every  deed  is  more  because  the  soul 
That  pours  itself  into  its  joy  or  anger 

Seems  gifted  with  the  largeness  of  the  whole. 
So  one  man  is  the  sphere's  compeer  and  equal, 
Life's  total  self  complete  and  its  own  sequel. 

No  builder  he  of  fancies  ;  deep  and  serious, 

Amid  the  pomp  and  very  revelry, 
The  sovereignty  of  justice  grand,  imperious, 

Shows  what  life's  movement  must  forever  be. 
The  victory  of  Right  amid  the  direful 

Conflict  of  rights,  rooted,  it  seemed,  as  rock 
Fronting  the  sea's  upheave  condign  and  ireful, 

The  storm's  dense-clouded  and  impetuous  shock, 
Held  his  gaze  fixed  and  firm  ;  and  on  his  vision 

The  sunset  peace  that  comes  to  spirit  glad 
With  conquest  of  itself  and  just  decision 

How  dear  the  fate  its  blest  remorse  has  had  ; 
All  earth's  contents  and  furies  made  resplendent 
Since  seen  Eternity's  friend  and  close  attendant. 

VI. 

Past  are  the  ages 
Rejoicing  in  rages 
Of  storm  and  battle 


Goethe.  3 1 

And  thunder-rattle 

Of  conflict  fierce  and  pale  ; 

Now  peace  elater, 

Despair-dissipater, 

Grander  and  greater, 

Calms  passion  and  wail. 

Hear  the  world  calling 

In  accents  enthralling 

On  the  miracle-worker, 

Exorcist  and  King 

Of  the  darkness-lurker, 

The  weirdly  menacing 

Destroyer  and  slayer 

Of  hopes  that  are  fairest 

And  dreams  that  are  rarest. 

Master  and  player 

On  harp  that  rings  clearly 

With  message  that  trances 

The  listener  sheerly 

In  wide-reaching  glances 

Ar<1  sun- woven  visions 

Driving  derisions 

Like  clouds  from  its  pathway, 

He  comes  and  the  thunder, 

Over  and  under, 

Of  morning  and  glory 

Rolls  down  Night's  wrath-way, 

And  renewed  is  the  story 

Of  joy  and  success 

And  the  strength  that  must  bless. 

The  new  world  arises. 


32  GoetJie. 

The  peace-world  and  labor, 

The  love  of  the  neighbor, 

The  end  of  the  night  time, 

The  death  of  disguises. 

Heard  are  the  voices 

Whose  spirit  rejoices, 

Spirit  of  the  bright  time, 

And  the  white  morrow 

Makes  flee  the  sorrow 

Of  scorn  and  passion 

In  miraculous  fashion, 

Of  falchion  and  armor, 

Of  craft,  the  old  harmer. 

He  comes,  the  dispeller 

And  fate-compeller. 

Vanish  glooms  that  darken, 

Vanish  helmet  and  morion, 

Hearken,  oh,  hearken, 

We  see  him  and  hear  him, 

We  watch  and  we  near  him, 

The  true  Euphorion — Euphorion  ! 

VII. 

He  was  the  true  man 

Freedom-awakened, 

He  was  the  new  man 

With  thirst  unslakened 

For  the  great  dreams  from  the  bright  skies  pouring, 

Skies  of  the  Future 

Whose  higher  concavities 


Goethe.  33 

Rose  over  the  past  and  its  many  depravities 

With  loftier  divinities  for  nobler  adoring, 

And  joining  with  suture, 

Marvellous  and  golden, 

Worships  to  be  and  those  that  were  olden. 

And  first  the  time-hallowed  barriers, 

Soul-wounding  and  harriers, 

He  spurned  from  before  his  ways 

And  the  woes  which  they  bore  his  days. 

No  limits  should  be  for  him 

Save  those  which  he  made, 

No  alien  eyes  see  for  him 

The  truths  in  their  braid 

Of  light-woven  mystery 

Under  flaming  all  life  and  the  movement  of  history. 

Heaven-scaling  his  ardor  and  fire 

And  quenchless  the  force  and  the  flight  of  desire,, 

Till  on  that  grim  night  shone  forth  the  sun 

And  his  earliest  labor  was  done, 

For  he  saw  that  the  unending  rigor 

Of  Freedom  lay  in  obedience  and  vigor. 

Then  his  heart  leaped  forth  to  the  spirit  that  stole 

Through  natural  forms,  through  night  and  through 

day, 
Forever  attaining  its  purpose  and  goal, 
And  then  speeding  onward  and  still  away. 
The  web  of  the  veil 
Wherein  stars  are  robed 
He  tore  and  sundered, 

And  the  silver  far  gleaming  garment  and  mail 
Within  which  planets  are  globed 


34  Goethe. 

Knew  its  secret  discovered  and  wondered. 

The  rocks  and  the  flowers, 

The  teeming  miracle  of  life, 

The  splendors  arisen  from  tumult  and  strife, 

The  ceaseless  toil  of  the  procreant  hours, 

His  swift  thought  tracked  and  he  knew  the  rhyme 

Which  is  the  controlling  purport  of  time. 


VIII. 


The  fierce  and  impassionate  eyes  of  swift  youth 
forever  are  blinded 
By  search  for  love  and  its  beauty,  eager  and  full 
of  haste, 
The  world  of  the  morning  gleams  gold  to  the  rest- 
less and  myriad  minded, 
The  softly  uprolling  mists  hide  hollow  afar  and 
waste. 
Those  eyes  are  filled   with    strange  fire  and  give 
everything  for  dower 
A  glory  and  glow  that  seem  of  more  worth  than 
all  else  beside, 
The  phantasm  of  life  arises  whose  lingering  magical 
power 
Fleets  slow  as  a  dream  which  the  heart  would 
cling  to  and  not  be  denied. 
Forth  from  these  shows  of  the  senses  and  out  of 
these  moods  that  hold  us, 
Wandering  within  a  maze  of  flower  and  river  and 
hill, 
Strange  potent  enchantments  that  lure  and  wizard 
joys  that  enfold  us, 


Goethe.  35 

Making  our  souls  but  a  plaything  and  fettering 
our  purposeless  will, 
Hard  are  the  sinuous  pathways  and  weary-footed 
to  follow, 
Cold  grows  the  ether  around  us,  and  lonesomer 
far  the  height, 
Where  our  own  voices  grow  alien,  our  words  sound 
distant  and  hollow, 
And  the  high  sun  showers  forth  a  warmthless 
dislumined  light. 
Yet  over  the  difficult  steeps  and  through  the  strait 
mountain  passes 
Winds  the  long  search  for  the  plain  where  the 
true  fatherland  shines, 
Sweeter  then  ever  before  and  deep  with  the  wind- 
swept grasses, 
Lovely  and  subtle  and  clear,  fresh  with  the  per- 
fume of  pines. 
And  lo  !  the  truth  is  around  us,  our  eyes  are  freed 
from  illusion, 
All  we  have  lost  is  there,  friend  and  lover  and 
hope, 
Weak  and  pulseless  and  faint  seems  the  vehement 
storm-winged  confusion 
Against  which  once  on  a  time  we  had  found  it  so 
hard  to  cope. 
Now   every   toil   is   sweet,  now  we  are  ruler  and 
master, 
Now  we  are  ready  to  bow  in  the  fine  reverences 
three, 
And  the  swift  flight  of  time,  hurtling  on  fast  and 
yet  faster, 


36  Goethe. 

Gives  up  its  innermost  soul  pure  of  its  darkness 
and  free. 
You    have    we    followed,  O    Poet,  and   wondrous 
weaver  of  stories, 
You  who  have  fathomed  and  known  every  wild 
change  of  the  way, 
All  its  shadows  and   glooms,  its  reaches  and  out- 
looks and  glories, 
And  after  the  leaden-houred  night  the  burst  of 
the  golden  day. 


IX. 


Who  shall  say  the  past  has  perished,  who  shall  say 

that  Greece  is  dead  ? 
Nay,  as  living  as  the  present,  ancient  thought  with 

ours  is  wed. 
Backward    fleets   the    sleepless   longing,  sees   the 

subtly  moulded  beauty, 
Gods  of  everlasting  laughter,  joyance  lord  of  life 

and  duty, 
From  the  effort  and  the  struggle,  from  the  labor 

yet  unfinished, 
Backward  to  the  task  completed,  art  that  lives  yet 

undiminished. 
As  we  now  are  groping,  searching,  hoping  for  the 

exaltation, 
He  too  sought  from  toils  barbaric  bright  and  happy 

liberation. 
Can  we  then  slip  off  the  garment  woven  by  the 

strong  time-spirit, 


Goethe.  37 

Know  again  the  young  Apollo,  seek  his  splendor 

and  dwell  near  it  ? 
All  this  Gothic  grotesque  clamor  leave  for  serene 

morning  song 
Dropping  from  the  very  heavens,  silver  clear  and 

wondrous  strong  ? 
He  rejoiced  in  the  achievement,  brought  to  life  the 

buried  treasure, 
Felt  again  the    ancient    sorrow,   knew    again  the 

ancient  pleasure, 
Heard  the  priestess  speak  in  Tauris  words  of  cheer, 

divine  consolement, 
And  the  furies  fled  defeated  subject  to  love's  high 

controlment, 
Deeper  sought  in   strangest  caverns  secrets  whose 

command  embraces 
History's  every    onward    movement,   worlds    that 

dwell  in  variant  spaces, 
Found  the  realm  of  the  Idea,  fountain  of  the  lives 

divisive, 
Showering  fates  that  rouse  the  peoples,  bringing 

ills  to  scorn  derisive, 
And  by  many  a  winding  pathway  sought  the  clue 

and  surely  found  it 
Which  led  back  restored   Helen,  beauty  and  the 

glow  around  it, 
Art  and  splendor  re-created,  nobleness  reclothed  in 

form, 
Half  more  than    the    overwholeness,   moderation 

after  storm, 
Classic,  crystalline  and  finished,  poems  statue-like 

and  pure, 


38  Goethe. 

Thoughts  as  round  as  singing  planets  fixed  in  words 
that  must  endure, 

Being  fashioned  in  such  manner  that  their  sub- 
stance is  eternal, 

All  their  elements  free  from  weakness,  perfect- 
colored,  perfumed,  vernal. 

Yet  not  here  the  climbing  spirit  can  find  peace  nor 
long  make  pauses, 

Leaping  over  loveliest  limits,  onward  pressed  by 
deepest  causes, 

Not  with  truths  that  shine  resplendent  in  a  realm 
of  sharp  exclusion, 

But  the  energy  that  can  master  shifting  hosts  of 
dire  confusion, 

Hold  them  bound  by  strong  devices,  make  them 
take  the  bit  and  harness, 

Drive  through  charm  of  gardened  nearness,  sweep 
through  mystery  of  farness, 

Form  as  thought  self-balanced,  moulded,  ocean- 
lustrous  and  sonorous, 

Goth  and  Greek  at  last  united,  gift  the  greatest 
Time  yet  bore  us. 


x. 


Whither  may  the  flight  of  the  spirit  be  taken  ? 
Lo  !  it  arises  higher  and  higher, 
Spurning  the  ground  ;  its  melodies  waken 
Girt  by  the  morning's  enveloping  fire. 
What  is  beyond  there 
In  the  clear  blueness  ? 


Goethe.  39 

Tree  of  life  lifting  a  wind-swayed  frond  there, 

Growth  into  ever  more  heavenly  newness  ? 

Or  is  the  void  in  that  luring  dim  distance, 

And  sheer  defeat  the  end  of  existence, 

Closing  around  us 

Limitless  limits  that  bound  us, 

The  unvoiced  realm  of  the  Mystic  Unknowable 

Where  Thought  cannot  be  and  no  seed  is  sowable  ? 

Nay,  do  you  hear  him  mocking  behind  you  ? 

Now  he  comes  forth  with  leer  and  with  sneer  ; 

This  is  the  fate  that  the  years  have  designed  you, 

Darkness  incarnate  is  palpably  near. 

Now  for  the  grapple 

With  bated  breath  ! 

Who  wins  the  apple 

Of  life  and  of  death  ? 

This  is  the  field  where  the  battle  is  keenest, 

This  is  the  day  that  must  surely  be  won, 

Victory  here  wears  laurel  the  greenest, 

Now  shall  the  deed  for  the  whole  world  be  done. 

We  join  them  in  the  weary  search 

And  leave  behind  the  home  and  church, 

The  impetuous  impulse  and  the  daring 

We  two  can  feel  burning  and  bearing 

Our  very  souls  into  that  longing 

Struggling  past  pain  and  all  its  wronging. 

Ah,  how  the  agony  tears  and  shatters, 

Ah,  how  the  will  o'  the  wisp  fleets  and  flatters  ! 

Yet  he  who  ever  strives  must  find  exemption, 

And  sorrow  work  its  own  redemption. 

Hark  !  the  voice  of  Margaret  calling 


40  Goethe. 

Down  from  the  heights  of  pardon  falling  ! 

Over   the   mountain    fell    and    past    re-awakened 

Greece 
The  journey  speeds  to  find  release  ; 
And  there  beside  the  deep-toned  sea, 
Forth  from  the  wave  emerges  all  that  is  to  be, 
Love,  being  conqueror,  brings  the  deed,  the  vision, 

ecstasies, 
And  servant   held  forever  downward    sinks  dark 

Mephistopheles. 


XI. 


He  only  wins  his  freedom  truly, 

Who  daily  wins  it  fresh  and  fair, 

He  only  ever  rises  newly 

Into  the  regions  of  the  purer  air 

Who  falters  not  for  blame  nor  praise, 

But  lives  in  strenuous  and  victorious  days. 

Past  the  times  that  bore  and  held  him 

Looked  the  gray  poet  with  his  quenchless  gaze, 

Some  dear  vision  hovered  and  compelled  him 

Toward  the  Future's  sunnier  ways. 

Over  the  ocean's  welter  westward 

Sped  his  hope  and  strengthening  thought, 

Where  each  tenth  wave  rolled  higher  to  crestward 

Even  as  Fate  rose  nobler  wrought. 

You,  O  prairied  land  Hesperian, 

Better  than  older  continents, 

Will  know  to  gather  fire 

From  the  empyrean's  strong  desire, 


Goethe.  41 

And  souled  with  the  passion  once  Iberian, 

Show  forth  the  life  to  which  all  Time  consents. 

From  the  verge  and  lofty  highland 

Where  the  aged  poet  stood, 

Past  fair  France  and  England's  white-cliff ed  island, 

In  his  last  prophetic  mood, 

Hitherwards  he  turned  and  brightened 

With  the  young  land  Freedom-lightened, 

Hope's  superbest  dedication 

Of  each  part  unto  the  Whole's  high  consecration. 

Here  shall  be  song  for  him, 

Here  shall  prolong  for  him 

All  his  high  music  the  musical  deed, 

Mystery  banishing 

With  dark  clouds  vanishing, 

Onwards  to  lead  ; 

Love  pure,  etherial, 

Master  and  King, 

Power  crowned,  imperial, 

Victory  must  bring, 

Glad  to  beseech  of  us 

Gentleness,  strength, 

Showing  to  each  of  us 

Heaven  at  length  ! 


REVELATION. 

"  I  "HE  booming  bee,  the  wild,  bold  rover, 
A       Flutters  from  roses  white  to  red, 
Now  pauses,  and  then  floats  quite  over 

The  breeze-bent  flower  bed  ; 
The  silence  doubles  his  deep  voice, 
And  both  are  but  one  tune — rejoice  ! 

The  ripples  fleet  across  the  river, 

Imprisoning  the  fiery  gold 
Which  the  high  sun,  unstinting  giver, 

Into  their  cells  has  rolled  ; 
And  all  their  lucence  speaks  and  tells 
Of  miracles  and  pleasure  spells. 

I  gaze  into  the  sky's  deep  mystery, 
That  circle  of  unfathomed  blue, 

That  orb  wherein  all  Time's  vague  history 
Finds  secret  record  due, 

And  lo  !  throughout  its  luminous  rings 

All  rapture's  sunshine  thrills  and  sings  ! 


42 


DANTE. 


43 


DANTE. 

"\  \  WITHIN  these  latter  years  from  all  the  sky 

Thunder  the  trumpets  of  increasing  storm  ; 
Dark  shadows  on  the  earth  and  waters  lie, 

And  flickering  tongues,  whose  messages  deform 
The  languid,  lingering  hope, 
Across  the  welkin's  slope 
Flash  in  sharp  lightnings  of  a  mocking  glee 
At  man's  defeat  and  thought's  deep  misery. 

Why  linger  in  the  regions  dolorous 

Where  path  is  none,  and  we  who  trod  before 
Grew  gaunt  with  dreams,  that  beckoned  us 

To  follow  where  the  cloudy  height  was  more 
Engirt  in  heavier  night, 
And  all  the  uncertain  light 
Shone  but  our  faltering  footsteps  to  deceive 
And  our  worn  hearts  of  their  last  hope  bereave. 

For  in  that  valley  wondrous  sirens  sung, 

And  in  the  heavens  we  saw  the  city's  spires 
Whereto  our  rising  hopes  leaped  forth  and  clung, 
And  on  the  chaos  of  our  young  desires 
A  harmonizing  strain 
Fell,  and  in  its  dear  chain 
45 


46  Dante. 

Bound  us  transformed,  until  we  seemed  to  reach 
A  being's  ecstasy  past  thought  or  speech. 

But  these  were  dreams  (men  said),  and  one  by  one 

They  faded,  and  the  sun-deserted  air 
Shuddered  above  the  landscape,  and  to  shun 
Its  barren  desolation  and  despair 
Became  an  impulse  strong 
To  bear  us  swift  along 
The  stream  whereon  the  many  move  and  float 
And  strive  to  still  their  soul's  supremest  note. 

Sometimes  like  ghosts  the  vanished  visions  came 

And  floated  past  our  half- forgetting  eyes, 
Robed  in  the  light,  sad-changed,  but  still  the  same 
As  when  they  gave  to  morn  a  new  surprise 
Of  fire  beyond  its  fire, 
And  the  suppressed  desire 
Moved  in  its  tomb  for  a  brief  moment's  space, 
And  half  disclosed  once  more  its  youthful  face. 

Nay,  we  have  not  escaped  the  general  gloom, 

For  through  the  realm  wherein  our  hours  are 
past 
Mutter  the  thunders  of  the  bolts  of  doom, 
And  all  our  joy  into  the  abyss  is  cast 
Whereto  our  loftiest  thought 
Or  vision  noblest  wrought 
Is  swept  by  winds  that  howl  and  madly  blow 
Around  each  spot  where  our  slow  steps  must  go. 


Dante.  47 

Harken  the  voices  which  are  our  despair, 

Their  tones  are  myriad,  but  their  message  one  ; 
"  Ye  cannot  know  ;  your  hopes  are  vague  as  air  ; 
With  this  life's  briefest  span,  the  whole  is  done  ; 
The  self,  than  prison-walls 
Mightier,  the  soul  enthralls  ; 
The  Mystery  engirds  you  and  the  Unknown 
Enfolds  you  round,  silent  as  senseless  stone. 

u  The  gods  are  frailest  visions  of  the  night 

Wherein  the  peoples  wandered  ere  arose 
The  sun  beneath  whose  fierce  transfiguring  light 
Our  march  of  world-dominion  onward  goes  ; 
The  sun  whose  sense  is  this, 
That  nothing  truly  is, 
That  having  eyes  to  see  we  cannot  see, 
And  having  being  yet  we  cannot  be. 

"  The  words  miraculous  of  the  sages  dead, 

The    golden    splendors    that    enchained  their 
souls, 
The  dreams  wherein  the  earth   and  heaven  were 
wed, 
The  flight  of  joy  to  being's  utmost  pole, 
All  these  are  vain  and  weak 
And  realms  where  men  who  seek 
Find  but  themselves  like  mighty  shadows  cast 
Upon  a  mountain  pathway  overpast. 

"  The  earth  is  all,  the  ceaseless  whirl  and  toss 
Of  soulless  atoms  in  their  changing  play  ; 


48  Dante. 

Yet  these  we  know  not,  for  we  cannot  cross 

The  barriers  which  themselves  did  round  us 
lay  ; 

Our  life  is  only  pain, 
Whose  utmost  hope  and  strain 
Avail  no  more  than  bid  us  yield  its  breath 
Unto  the  voiceless  void  of  rest  and  death." 

While  thus  we  walked,  clad  in  our  dark  dismay, 

Comfort  (we  heard)  waited  us  from  afar, 
Messages  from  the  golden  break  of  day, 
And  accents  of  a  more  benignant  star, 
Voices  with  power  to  bring 
Light  as  an  offering, 
And  showing  water-springs  and  secret  wells 
Where  health  resides  and  consolation  dwells. 

We  listened  to  the  wonder-freighted  words, 

And  on  our  souls  a  latter  morning  broke, 
All  our  rapt  thoughts  began  to  sing  as  birds 

That  feel  the  spring  within  their  limbs  awoke, 
And  the  tumultuous  brood 
Who  had  given  us  night  for  food 
Sullenly  sought  their  lairs  within  the  abyss 
And  fouled  no  more  our  life's  increasing  bliss. 

Our  steps  were  led  to  the  long-famed  domain 

Where  ruled  the  austere   and  mighty  Floren- 
tine, 

Whose  mazes  we  had  trod  and  long  been  fain 
To  know  the  purport  of  its  bliss  and  sin, 


Dante.  49 

The  secret  deep  to  read 

In  our  most  direful  need 
Of  splendor  there  on  loftiest  peaks  that  shone 
And  songs  that  floated  pure  of  pain  and  moan. 

As  by  a  magic  touch  the  realm  lay  clear, 

The  dark  descent  we  saw  upheld  by  love, 
And  one  by  one  our  every  doubt  and  fear 
Melted  in  radiance  falling  from  above  ; 
The  gloomy  vale  of  Dis 
We  trod,  and  after  this 
The  strange  and  melancholy  way  that  leads 
To    the   Mount   of  Healing's    green   and   singing 
meads. 

We  climbed  that  Mount  where  pain   is  held  and 
sought 
As  expiation  of  the  luckless  deed, 
We  heard  the  hymns  of  deep  contrition  wrought, 
We  saw  the  stars  that  glowed   for  each    one's 
need, 

We  felt  the  mountain  thrill 
And  knew  some  happier  will 
Had  found  release  from  its  long-harbored  grief 
And  in  the  Heavens  its  fit  and  sure  relief. 

Learning  we  followed  as  our  large-eyed  guide, 
Empire  and  Might  derived  of  natural  things, 

The  Master  of  the  Ancients  who  denied 

Nought  to  our  askings  in  the  limitings 

That  circled  him  as  law, 
4 


50  Dante. 

And  after  him  we  saw 
Descend  for  us  from  Heaven's  most  central  rose 
Those  eyes  wherein  all  Godhead  shines  and  glows. 

O  wondrous  maiden,  Thought  divine  and  high, 

Miracle  and  Will  of  God  for  our  behoof, 
O  voice  serene  within  whose  potence  lie 

Death  and  dismay  for  all  keeps  us  aloof 
From  Heaven's  divinest  shrine, 
Our  souls  are  wholly  thine  ; 
Lo  !  where  thou  leadst  we  follow  thee  and  gain 
The  ultimate  vision  and  the  farthest  plain. 

Past  the  high  Heavens,  and  in  the  Blessed  Rose, 
Before  the  Throne  and  Glory  of  pure  Light, 
Loving  as  He  who  loves  and  as  who  knows 
The  All  in  one  supreme  of  love  and  sight, 
We  worship  and  adore, 
We  shall  not  wander  more, 
But,  our  great  journeyings  done  and  overtrod, 
Mix  and  participate  in  very  God. 


PROTAGORAS. 

l^EAR,  fear  ?     After  we  know  the  very  worst, 
A        What  lower  deep  can  yawn  or  gloom  for  us  ? 
Grown  dull  because  we  have  so  long  been  nurst 

In  dreams  both  merciless  and  marvellous, 
We  dare  not  look  upon  the  simple  truth, 

But  vex  ourselves  about  realms  sad  or  glad, 
And  wonder  whether  God  is  merely  ruth, 

Or  if  perchance  He  is  capricious-mad. 
Deign  not  to  fear,  much  less  descend  to  hope, 

Within  you  lies  the  measure  of  the  all, 
Sound  but  the  deeps  of  your  own  soul  and  scope, 

And  nothing  further  can  your  life  befall, 
So  much  beyond  the  whole  of  bliss  and  pain 
Is  that  which  makes  the  strength   of   these   and 
strain. 


51 


PLATO. 


53 


PLATO. 


/T~VHE  imperious  centuries  pass  and  bear 

■*■       Unto  the  vast  abyss 
The  works  diverse  we  deemed  most  fair, 
The  builded  realms  of  state  and  law 
That  held  our  utmost  awe, 
Miraculous  forms  of  worships  old 
Now  grown  as  their  own  prophets  cold, 
Hopes  sunlit  with  the  impassioned  bliss 
Of  reaching  worlds  more  bright  than  this, 
Songs  that  arose  on  sweep  sublime 
And  challenged  issue  with  old  Time, 
Dreams  that  for  earthly  dwelling-place 
Wrought  shapes  of  a  supernal  grace, 
For  strangely  in  them  lurked  the  flaw 
Which  brought  their  fall  and  overthrow, 
The  years  that  all  their  beauty  saw 
Knew  the  slow-dealing  blow  on  blow 
That  laid  them  low. 

ii. 

Adown  the  never-pausing  river, 

Out  to  the  shoreless,  tumbling  seas, 

From  under  skies  wherein  the  clear  light-giver 

55 


$6  Plato. 

Watches  the  life  of  men  and  flocks  and  trees, 

Forth  to  the  dark  realm  of  the  Past 

Float  all  high  things  at  last. 

The  serene  stars  that  blaze 

Across  the  enraptured  gaze 

Had  their  beginnings  and  will  cease 

From  scattering  light's  increase. 

What  is  of  might  to  rise  and  say 

Unto  the  wide  impermanence, 

I  know  thine  origin  and  whence 

The  potence  of  thy  nay  ; 

I  hold  thee  as  a  king  his  realm, 

And  thou  art  weak  to  overwhelm 

With  thy  large  waves  of  ruin  dire 

The  achievements  of  my  strong  desire. 

Have  human  searchings  found  the  path 

That  leads  from  regions  transitory 

To  life  that  for  its  guerdon  hath 

The  splendor  and  the  glory, 

Which   knows  but  change  from  self  to  self,  and 

grows 
By  its  own  death  more  full  of  light, 
The  light  of  life  that  glows 
In  God's  own  sight  ? 


in. 


Hard  is  the  steep  to  climb, 

And  many  have  sought  and  lost  ; 

Many  have  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  Time, 

And  waited  while  the  vision  crost 


Plato.  57 

Their  blinded  eyeballs,  and  in  weak  despair 

Have  called  upon  the  unechoing  air 

To  make  response  to  the  stern  anguish 

Wherein  their  self-dazed  longings  languish. 

Nay,  they  have  cried,  we  cannot  tell 

The  secret  of  the  miracle  ; 

The  painted  veil  is  lifted  never, 

The  things  we  see  are  strong  to  sever 

Our  hearts  from  feeling  answering  heat 

From  world-heart's  great  impetuous  beat  ; 

Fettered  we  sit  within  the  cave, 

And  watch  the  shadows  fleet, 

Nor  is  there  might  to  save, 

Unless  like  rays  upgathered  back  into  the  sun, 

Our  Thought,  resorbed  into  the  Eternal  One, 

Falters  from  height  of  differenced  life, 

And  freed  from  strife, 

Sinks  deep  into  the  silence  golden 

Wherein  the  Unknown  God  is  holden. 

Far  knowledge  is  but  of  the  things  we  see, 

And  frail  as  wind-swept  clouds  are  we  ; 

Children  of  the  unenduring  hour, 

And  circled  by  Time's  pageant  vain, 

We  cannot  be,  and  yet  attain 

Unto  that  conscious  grasp  of  all 

Which  holds  our  deepest  hopes  in  thrall, 

And  gives  our  separate  souls  the  immortal  power 

Of  high  conjuncture  with  the  God  for  dower. 


58  Plato. 


IV. 


Not  such  thy  message,  sovereign  of  the  ancient 

world, 
Thou  whose  swift  soul  arose 
Above  the  line  of  snows, 
And,  through  the  vapors  duskly  curled 
Above  the  changeful  and  the  fugitive, 
Saw'st  the  clear  net-work  of  the  thoughts  that  live, 
Saw'st  the  Idea  pierce  and  gild 
The  realms  the  passions  build  ; 
The  siren  music  of  the  sense 
Lulled  not  thy  sleepless  vigor  into  indolence  ; 
Akin  unto  the  far  divine, 
Born  into  time  but  bound  not  by  its  chains, 
Knowing  the  mystic  countersign 
Which  opes  the  Heaven's  utmost  plains, 
Like  thine  own  hero,  the  Pamphylian, 
Thou  heard'st  the  singing  of  the  spheres, 
And  earthward  cam'st  for  a  brief  span 
To  break  our  bondage  of  vague  fears, 
To  liberate  the  prisoned  soul, 
To  show  the  vision  of  the  whole, 
Which  makes  and  is  such  visioning, 
The  wandering  heart  once  more  to  bring 
To  that  great  splendor  which  the  seeress  knew 
As  Love's  deep  secret,  and  the  power  which  drew 
Men  upward  to  the  service  high 
Of  the  Eternal  Goodness  past  the  sky, 
The  temple  of  the  Spirit  whose  effulgence  glows 
The  Universe's  all-illumining  Rose. 


Plato.  59 


Finder  of  the  serene  and  permanent, 

Beholder  and  the  vision  blent 

In  the  ideas  whose  enweavings  keep 

Regnance  on  Time's  utmost  leap, 

The  wondrous  union  where  the  deed  and  might 

Converge  in  one  transcendent  light, 

Intrepid  sailor  of  all  seas  of  thought, 

Whose  fearless  eyes  swept  all  the  skies, 

Whose  ventures  mystic  cargoes  brought 

From  the  farthest  realm  that  brilliant  lies 

Beneath  the  hand  of  the  unenvying  God, 

Yea,  thou  to  whom  the  near  was  far, 

Who  read'st  the  marvel  of  the  sod 

As  secret  of  the  distant  star, 

Torch-bearer  in  the  race  of  Truth, 

And  winner  of  immortal  youth, 

Slayer  of  time,  the  serpent  curled 

About  the  ancient  melancholy  world, 

What  lamp  of  what  great  sphere  of  life  shone  not 

for  thee, 
What  dwelling  of  what  sacred  Gods  knew  not  the 

wing 
Of  thy  keen  spirit's  flight,  what  angel's  voice,  that 

rang 
With  message  from  the  isles  in  the  dim  western 

sea, 
Solicited  not  thine  unswerving  soul, 
What  music's  thunder-roll, 
Mixture  ecstatic  of  the  spheral  throng 


60  Plato. 

That  weave  life's  wonder-song, 
Received  not  from  thy  heart 
More  than  its  noblest  inmost  part  ? 


VI. 


Mightiest  of  realms,  the  source  and  end 

Of  all  that  is  or  is  to  be, 

World  of  ideas,  which  the  souls  who  see 

Know  as  the  goal  whereto  must  wend 

All  streams  of  will  or  hope  or  thought, 

Truth  most  divinely  wrought 

Into  such  self-evoked  and  complete  perfectness 

That  without  haste  or  stress 

Thine  images  flow  forth  from  thine  embrace, 

And  mirror  back  thy  calm  supernal  face, 

(For  the  high  strength  unenvious 

Can  only  know  his  fulness  thus) 

Deep  heart  of  love  whose  pure  controls 

Span  the  far  reach  of  utmost  poles, 

Enwoven  maze  of  clear  intelligential  powers 

Bound  into  sheaves  of  unimagined  flowers, 

Flowers  that  are  lands  for  searching  souls, 

Where  rise  the  many-gleaming  knolls 

From  whence  far  valleys  shine  and  wind 

Responsive  to  the  eyes  of  perceant  mind 

Aflame  to  know  the  just  and  true, 

And  find  the  skies,  forever  blue, 

Sphere  wonderful  of  thought  eterne, 

To  which  all  joy  and  ardor  yearn, 


Plato.  6 1 

Unto  thy  portals  first  the  wizard  dreams 

Of  the  philosopher  of  hope-winged  Greece, 

Plato,  our  master,  King  of  peace, 

Sailor  upon  the  wide-encircling  streams 

That  are  the  secret  passage-ways 

Leading  to  thine  all-golden  days, 

Plato,  the  seer  and  winner  of  life's  high  emprise, 

The  royal-fronted,  with  deep  solemn  eyes, 

The  golden  dreams  of  his  desire 

Unto  thy  gates  and  past  the  space  of  fire 

Brought  the  astonied  speed  of  those 

Who  into  mixture  with  thy  purity  arose. 

Faint  lands  shown  tremblingly  in  pallid  light 

Upon  their  slowly-comprehending  sight  ; 

The  soft-illumined  lakes  and  lawns 

Glittered  beneath  pearl-shimmering  dawns  ; 

Vapors  in  snowy  languid  curls 

Hung  over  hill-protected  vales, 

And  where  the  sacred  mid  unfurls 

The  city  in  the  distance  pales. 

Lo  !  unto  those  who  dare  to  see, 

And  rouse  them  from  the  lethargy 

The  numbing  life  of  earth  builds  round  the  soul, 

There  comes  the  noble  vision  of  the  whole  ; 

For  vales  and  streams  and  cities  clear 

Are  symbols  but  of  truths  more  near 

The  centre,  and  the  dreams  of  heaven 

Rising  through  light-clothed  gyres  from  height  to 

height 
In  glories  cancelling  the  force  of  sight, 
Until  the  holy  leaven 


62  Plato. 

Of  transformation  makes  the  spirit  kin 

Unto  what  is  and  has  forever  been, 

Are  also  but  much-trodden  ways 

To  deeper  God-born  days. 

The  undeviating  eye 

Beholds  at  last  the  secret  of  the  sky  : 

Vast  forms  of  certain  permanence, 

The  reason  of  all  whither  and  all  whence, 

The  origin  and  the  end  of  things, 

The  fountain  which  forever  leaps  and  sings. 

The  realm  of  the  eternal  rises  clear, 

The  interwoven  crowned  potencies, 

The  shine  of  the  ideas,  their  own  light, 

And  spring  of  sovereign,  changeless  bliss, 

The  mystery  of  the  far  and  near  ; 

These  are  the  gods  gigantic  of  the  elder  times 

That  rule  all  periods  and  all  climes, 

That  dispossess  the  phantoms  of  old  Night, 

And  are  the  inmost  of  just  life  and  sight. 

They  weave  their  ordered  progress  in  the  fire 

Of  the  supreme  and  purged  desire. 

Their  vastness  interpenetrates 

Their  substance  individual, 

And  their  great  glory  undulates 

In  unison  to  the  regent  thrall 

Of  one  engirding  lucence,  whose  deep  glow 

Transfigures  all  who  are  and  know, 

Being  topmost  flame  of  hope  and  love, 

All  nobleness  above, 

The  centre  of  the  blessed  power 

Whence  bursts  the  Universe  in  flower, 


Plato.  63 

Himself  the  flower  and  root  and  source, 

Where  all  streams  find  their  mingling  course, 

The  One  Eternal,  Good,  and  Fair, 

Who  can  and  must  all  acts  in  his  own  bosom  bear. 


VII. 


Like  rays  emergent  from  the  sun, 

Like  notes  dispersing  from  the  singer's  lips, 

Like  leaves  unfolding  when  the  snow  is  done, 

Like  foam  back-leaping  from  wave-cleaving  ships, 

Like  speech  dividing  viewless  breath, 

Or  drops  wherewith  the  rain-cloud  drips, 

Lo  !  as  the  One  his  clear  word  saith, 

The  region  of  the  many  blooms  at  length 

And  burns  and  flames  with  delegated  strength. 

Dark  space  bursts  forth  in  wheeling  stars 

Outridden  on  their  sightless  cars  ; 

The  sea  divides  before  the  many  colored  land, 

The  skies  above  the  woods  and  meadows  stand  ; 

The  winds  sweep  from  the  farthest  verge 

Of  Heaven,  and  all  their  murmurs  urge 

The  might  of  Time  to  loftier  reach 

Of  act  and  song  and  speech  ; 

The  hollows  of  the  rocks  are  swift  to  learn 

The  eagerness  with  which  the  new  worlds  yearn  ; 

The  thrill  of  movement  sweeps  and  sings 

Across  the  Universe's  outstretched  strings  ; 

The  splendor  tones  upfill  the  void 

With  music  only  souls  may  hear, 

Who  past  the  limits  of  base  fear 


64  Plato. 

And  by  no  faintest  tremor  yet  annoyed 

Are  as  the  waters  clear 

To  lights  that  change  nor  veer. 

In  ordered  numbers  move  and  fleet 

The  myriad  pulse  and  beat 

Of  wide  existence's  up-leaping  flame  ; 

No  tongue  may  rightly  name 

The  tumult  and  the  stress 

Of  crescent  loveliness  ; 

The  gods  celestial  with  a  clear  geometry 

Build  up  whatso  we  know  and  see  ; 

The  fashioning  of  the  world  proceeds  and  grows 

With  fire  and  light  and  dusk  and  snows  ; 

Strange  contraries  divide  and  roll 

Back  under  one  control  ; 

Frail  atoms  dance  a  slender  round 

To  tune  most  sweet  of  scarce-heard  sound  ; 

Pale  blossoms  gleam  amid  light  leaves 

And  earth  her  garb  around  her  weaves  ; 

The  air  is  glad  with  rush  of  wings, 

And  everywhere  new  rapture  springs  ; 

The  unapparent  dreams  of  the  high  gods 

Find  language  in  the  stars  and  blooms  and  sods  ; 

Proportion  holds  the  world  in  thrall, 

Blends  into  one  the  unnumbered  all, 

And  'mid  the  wanton  whirl  and  toss 

Gathers  up  rays  of  light  and  thought, 

And  with  a  passioned  bliss  is  wrought, 

Where  the  great  currents  join  and  cross, 

The  image  of  the  mighty  whole, 

The  centred  and  self-mastering  soul. 


Plato.  6$ 

VIII. 

For  thee,  O  soul,  the  spectacle  converges, 

For  thee  the  morning  lifts  the  blaze 

That  startles  clouds  with  gold  amaze  ; 

Around  thee  life  conveys  and  urges 

All  fair  sights  and  wonder-sounds, 

Music  falling  soft  as  petals 

From  a  rose's  velvet  bounds, 

Soft  as  mist  that  dimly  settles 

On  an  island  half-descried 

In  a  bay's  expanses  wide  ; 

An  orb  of  potence  thou  dost  dwell 

In  mid  and  heart  of  the  vast  miracle  ; 

Forth  of  thee  the  silver  rays 

Speed  of  a  mysterious  fire, 

Binding  to  thine  each  desire 

What  thou  wouldst  of  the  revolving  maze  ; 

Round  thy  rapid  chariot  wheels 

All  the  pageant  flows  and  glows, 

Thou  the  monarch  and  the  master, 

Thou  the  elder  and  the  sire  ; 

On  thine  ear  the  distant  peals 

Fall  of  bells  from  summit  where 

Shadows  flee  the  sunrise  faster, 

Where  the  gods  above  the  snows 

Shine  in  calmer,  clearer  air. 

Thou  art  of  their  kin  and  race, 

Ruler  of  large  time  and  space  ; 

They  thy  guardians  are  and  friends 

Leading  thee  to  purest  ends  ; 


66  Plato. 

Circle  of  their  hands  rains  influence 

Through  the  vapors  dull  and  dense, 

Which  are  vain  to  separate 

Thee  and  thy  benignant  fate  ; 

The  ancient  mother  of  the  sky  and  earth, 

Goddess  high,  superb,  serene, 

Joyously  presided  at  thy  birth, 

Wove  for  thee  the  temporal  screen 

That  is  for  thy  severed  growth, 

Yet  conjoins  thee  close  with  both 

Heaven,  and  earth's  severer  plane, 

Which  to  conquer  makes  thee  fain 

Of  the  loftier  changeless  gain. 

Wisdom  of  the  universe, 

Strength  of  stars  and  might  of  sun, 

In  thee  once  again  are  spun 

To  a  life  which  can  disburse 

Wealth  of  unifying  power 

To  the  many  from  its  dower. 

Lo  !  the  mighty  spiritual  world 

In  thy  being  lies  up-furled  ; 

Brothers  thou  beholdst  around  thee, 

Lives  like  thine  allure,  surround  thee. 

Thou  wouldst  build  the  general  doom 

Exorcising  night  and  gloom  ; 

Thou  unitest  joy  and  thought, 

And  the  universal  State  is  wrought, 

History's  secret  and  endeavor, 

Birth  of  Now  and  the  Forever, 

Immortality  clothed  in  Time, 

Spirit  found,  achieved,  sublime. 


Plato.  67 


IX. 


Yet  further,  nobler,  draws  thee  on, 

Whither  the  highest  and  the  best  have  gone  ; 

The  will  unanimous  of  men 

Opens  fields  of  more  transpicuous  ken  ; 

Higher  nights  the  soul  uplift, 

God's  supreme  and  final  gift  ; 

Beauty  is  the  magic  lure 

Which  leads  man  forth  to  what  must  still  perdure. 

He  cannot  halt  upon  the  path 

Which  a  beyond  reveals  and  hath  ; 

He  follows  on  from  peak  to  peak, 

He  burns  with  bliss  to  know  and  seek  ; 

The  mountain-stairs  of  high  endeavor 

He  treads  and  climbs  and  scales  forever  ; 

New  glory  rises  round  him  still 

And  spurs  his  unabated  will  ; 

As  veil  by  veil  the  clouds  of  dawn 

Vanish  with  the  growing  sun, 

Now  disclosing  vale  and  lawn, 

Sights  far-reaching,  never  done, 

Thus  vision  gives  to  vision  place, 

Nobler  and  more  full  of  glow, 

Till  the  heart  of  all  above,  below, 

Shines  the  Everlasting  Face, 

Shines  the  all-embracing  Good, 

Heart  of  hearts  and  love  of  love, 

Source  of  soul's  unchanging  mood, 

Bliss  of  all  below,  above. 

As  two  fair  stars  perchance  unite 


68  Plato. 

Into  a  deeper  and  more  solemn  light, 

Wondrous  amity  intense, 

All  delights  of  soul  condense 

On  the  summit  where  the  twain 

Join  in  unrepining  gain. 

As  from  the  poet's  conquering  dream 

Flows  in  many-glittering  stream 

Poem  after  poem  splendid, 

And  he  walks  by  them  attended, 

Good  from  good  springs  forth  at  length 

In  the  magnitude  of  strength, 

The  attainment  chief,  serene,  sublime, 

The  height  to  which  all  souls  must  climb. 


Master  if  my  weak  words  wrong  thee, 

Heavenly  dweller  as  thou  art, 

Thou  wilt  ease  my  burdened  heart  ; 

Thinkers,  lovers,  dreamers  throng  thee, 

Noblest  offspring  of  the  ages, 

Wisdom's  deep-enamored  sages  ; 

If  my  feeble  footsteps  follow 

Where  the  greater  went  before  me, 

If  my  song  sounds  faint  and  hollow, 

If  I  sought  the  land  which  bore  thee, 

Dearest  of  its  many  sons, 

And  the  splendors  spreading  there 

Through  that  finer,  keener  air, 

Overcame  my  feebler  sense, 

Thou  wilt  smile  and  bear  me  hence 


Plato.  69 

From  the  pain  my  rapt  soul  shuns, 

Pain  and  fear  lest  thee  I  have  not  spoken 

As  I  would,  or  rashly  way  have  broken 

Through  the  mists  that  clothe  our  being 

In  this  lower  realm  of  touch  and  seeing  ; 

Yea,  I  know  that  thou  wilt  smile, 

And  forgive  if  e'er  I  spake 

Aught  that  dims  thee  for  a  while, 

All  was  done  for  thy  high  sake. 

My  gaze  turns  upward  and  I  see  thy  face 

Turned  thronewards  in  the  mid  of  heaven, 

Thy  voice  I  hear  for  an  ecstatic  space, 

Uttering  thy  message  sweet  and  high, 

Noble  as  aught  the  mystic  seven 

Sang  in  the  tales  of  elder  time 

And  woven  oft  in  wondrous  rhyme  ; 

My  slowly-gathering  sight  divines  the  seers, 

Thy  followers  and  thy  peers, 

Who  stand  besides  thee  and  who  vie 

With  one  another  to  repeat 

What  thou  dost  tell  of  high  and  sweet. 

Thy  great  forerunners  in  the  race, 

The  bearded  ones  of  ages  cold, 

Shine  in  the  illumination  of  thy  grace, 

And  in  thy  truth  wax  bold. 

The  youths  who  heard  thine  earthly  voice 

Look  toward  thee  and  rejoice  ; 

Dreamers  who  fell  upon  the  eras  sad 

When  right  was  hounded  to  the  dusk 

Of  caverns  which  hoar  mountains  had, 

And  fed  upon  the  weed  and  husk, 


70  Plato. 

Feel  all  their  sorrow  fall  from  them 
Since  they  may  touch  thy  garment's  hem  ; 
And  seekers  boldest  earth  has  known, 
Now  that  her  hair  has  whiter  grown, 
Still  call  thee  master  and  great  King, 
Still  hear  thy  sonorous  sayings  ring  ; 
The  swift  years  are  thy  children  all, 
And  from  the  distance,  hark,  we  hear 
Yet  larger  voices  on  thee  call, 
The  times  to  be  approach  more  near, 
And  through  the  pageant  as  it  goes, 
The  secret  of  its  life  and  rich  success, 
The  flame  that  through  its  motion  glows, 
The  truths  benign  that  all  its  action  bless, 
Lo  !  they  are  thou,  and  thy  deep  word, 
Said  in  the  paler  past,  too  long  deferred, 
But  blossoming  into  sight  and  might  at  last, 
Old  miseries  done  and  overpast. 


XI. 


And  lo  !  thy  dreamed  Atlantis  from  thy  wars  of  old, 

Emerges  new  and  shapelier  of  life  ; 

Not  all  thine  Athens,  young  and  bold, 

Could  lordlier  march  to  nobler  strife  ; 

Sister  unto  thy  strong  democracy 

She  rises  from  the  western  sea. 

In  those  dead  wars  thou  knewst  so  well 

Before  thy  Greece  her  weapons  fell  ; 

Resurgent  now  she  holds  the  helm 

That  reaches  out  to  the  far-shinin<r  realm. 


Plato.  71 

Sighted  by  thee,  and  with  thy  breath  for  wind, 

Sails  forth  unto  the  golden-fronted  Ind. 

Whatever  storms  upon  the  way 

She  sails  unto  that  sun-drenched  day  ; 

Thou  and  thy  peers  from  Heaven's  own  mid 

Guide  her  and  help  and  bring  her  far, 

Leave  not  one  secret  of  that  pathway  hid, 

Be  leader  unto  her  and  star, 

Thou  and  the  great  who  after  thy  career 

Shone  in  Truth's  firmament, 

Great  suns  who  cannot  dim  nor  veer, 

Filled  with  the  large  intent 

Of  God's  own  ministries  in  sky  and  earth. 

Protectors  of  Time's  crescent  worth. 

Atlantis,  latest  daughter  fair, 

Breathing  Freedom's  heavenly  air, 

Strongest  sister  of  them  all, 

Unto  no  baseness  be  thou  thrall. 

Hear  thou  the  thinker  wise  and  great 

And  build  the  ever-during  state, 

Which  raises  all  men  to  the  height 

Of  knowing  Truth's  undimming  light, 

Which  gives  to  each  the  encircling  all, 

Crowning  bliss  of  the  terrestrial  ball, 

Which  brings  to  sight  what  the  philosopher 

Felt  in  some  further  period  must  occur, 

The  Ideal  hoped  for,  now  begun, 

And  into  undecaying  fabric  surely  spun, 

Life's  victory  and  the  whole  of  thought 

To  equal  service  of  humanity  brought  ! 


ORPHEUS. 

"\  X  T IDE-SPREAD  as  the  gray  sea  the  realm  of 
*  *  fate 

Lay  in  perpetual  twilight ;  weltering  far 
Old  Chaos  rolled  in  bursting  wave  on  wave 
And  held  the  seeds  of  things  ;  an  endless  reach, 
A  sphere  of  possibilities,  a  land 
Wherein  eternal  Ruin  sat  enthroned 
And  the  sweet  world  of  life  was  not  as  yet ; 
From  God  dire  Chaos  came,  for  God  is  king, 
And  out  of  his  warm  bosom  also  I. 
A  mighty  song  I  am,  so  loud,  so  pure, 
That  God  delights  to  hear,  and  wisest  men 
Perceive  its  grandeur  of  rich  melody 
Only  in  fragments  high  and  pulsings  glad  ; 
But  as  I  sing  the  roar  of  Chaos  dies 
And,  gradual  joyance,  subtle  grasses  sweep 
Across  the  new-formed  plains,  and  in  the  East 
The  rosy  sunrise  laughs,  and  Day  is  born. 
I  sing,  and  lo  !  the  cloud-divided  sky 
Domes  its  deep  blue  above  the  awakening  world, 
And  through  the  land  long  rivers  roll  away, 
And  in  the  shadow  of  the  untrodden  woods 
The  young  birds  sing  frail  echoes  of  my  song  ; 
72 


OrpJieus.  73 

I  lift  my  voice  and  the  large  rose  shines  forth, 
And  sheds  its  soul  upon  the  love-faint  air, 
And  fruit  by  fruit  the  latter  trees  droop  low 
As  in  their  wealth  of  leafage  glow  the  stars 
That  light  green  skies  of  autumn  ;  hark  !  I  sing  ; 
The  waters  bind  themselves  in  stilly  lakes, 
Tree-edged  and  looking  upward  to  the  sun, 
And  the  brown  deer  stands  on  the  flower-fringed 

brink 
And  drinking  sees  its  shadow  slim  reach  forth 
A  soft-eyed  greeting  ;  listen  !  again  my  song  ; 
And  on  the  sea-shore  rises  swift  and  white 
The  youthful  city  ;  in  the  night  the  tower 
Sends  down  the  air  its  lamp-lit  messages  ; 
Through  the  wide  streets  the  busy  many  pour, 
The  sturdy  men,  the  women  fair,  and  sweetest 
The  little  children  laugh  and  play  and  laugh, 
The  white-winged  ships  come  in  from  the  strange 

seas, 
And  bearded  sailors  bring  the  scented  bales  ; 
I  sing  and  in  the  noonday  twilights  bright 
With  fiery  flowers  and  flicker  of  fair  leaves, 
The  lovers  meet,  and  to  mine  ear  comes  back 
The  charmful  echo  of  my  beating  heart, 
For  I  am  of  the  spirit  of  pure  life, 
And  life  is  love,  the  soul  of  God  is  love  ; 
I  give  my  voice  a  tremor,  deepening,  clear, 
The  hearts  of  men  are  shaken,  and  they  know 
A  sound  within  them,  and  above,  around, 
A  music  that  is  very  self  of  me, 
Rising  to  life  in  them  and  spreading  far, 


74  Orpheus. 

Ruling  all  things  and  dreams  and  the  long  sweep 

Of  crescent  time  that  they  call  History. 

I  hear  myself  at  length,  know  what  am  I, 

What  fluctuant  murmurs  of  pure  tones 

Build  up  my  fabric,  and  how  golden  bright 

Are  curves  of  joy  that  leap  like  nobler  waves 

Across  the  sea-mass  of  my  harmony. 

Now  once  again  I  flute  with  eager  lips, 

And  the  steel  spears  of  war  snap  sheer  across, 

And  every  noise  of  contest  falters  slow 

Into  a  phrase  of  love  and  tender  tune, 

And  through  the  night  of  time  a  firm  red  glows 

That  is  the  dawn  of  everlasting  day. 

I  trumpet  forth  at  last  my  whole  of  song, 

The  waiting  hearts  make  answer  with  great  joy, 

The  mighty  nations  gladden,  the  ocean  wide 

Circles  the  world  with  moving  flames  of  glee, 

One  flawless  friendship  robes  the  finished  work, 

As  his  pure  fire  the  ever-giving  sun, 

Each  centred  soul  co-equal  with  the  whole, 

Untribed,  unclassed,  unmanacled,  and  free, 

Unto  the  realm  of  Spirit  every  eye 

Upraised  and  turned,  the  inmost  heaven  of  heaven, 

The  stainless  source  of  all  and  end  all  light, 

Perfect  the  lovely  song  in  everything, 

Clearly  responsive  to  the  song  on  high  ! 


DAVID  SWING. 

"  I  ^HE  engulfing  night  that  clips  the  world  around 

Has  reason  to  rejoice  ; 
The  voicelessness  that  girds  the  realm  of  sound 
Receives  another  voice. 

Whither  our  eager  eyes  can  follow  not 

Friend  after  friend  recedes, 
Leaving  the  earth  a  cold  and  wintry  spot 

Where  every  footstep  bleeds. 

Him,  too,  we  lose  who  stood  upon  his  height, 

Fearless,  erect,  and  strong, 
Uttering  his  message  from  the  soul  of  right 

Above  the  waiting  throng. 

Shall  we  not  hear  again  those  words  of  cheer, 
Nor  see  those  eyes  that  shine, 

Nor  hang  upon  that  face  majestic,  dear, 
And  aspect  leonine  ? 

Whither  has  fled  that  over-mastering  force, 

That  swift  illumining  wit  ? 
Upon  what  strange  and  more  entrancing  course 

Does  that  fine  humor  flit  ? 

75 


j6  David  Switig. 

Deeper  (we  hope)  the  truth  that  charms  his  gaze, 
Fairer  the  outstretched  scene, 

Nobler  the  stars  that  round  him  roll  and  blaze, 
Purer  the  meadow's  green. 

Patient,  serene,  he  bore  the  burdened  years, 
Felt  the  great  world's  deep  woe, 

Faced  the  new  questions,  crushed  the  newer  fears, 
Saw  the  sun's  rising  slow. 

Into  the  dark  that  changeless  soul  has  passed, 

Into  the  void  those  tones, 
Wherein  the  all-embracing  truth  was  glassed 

Like  light  in  precious  stones. 

Nay,  grief  mistakes  ;  whither  he  goes  is  light, 

'T  is  we  are  dark,  indeed  ; 
'T  is  we  who  dwell  within  the  impending  night, 

Who  feel  the  breathless  need. 

Lo  !  as  I  strain  my  upward  looking  eyes, 
The  shadowy  death  grows  fair, 

And,  grander  than  my  thought's  most  rich  surmise, 
I  see  light  everywhere. 

The  gloom  that  clips  the  lessening  world  around 
Bursts  into  flame  and  flower  ; 

The  voicelessness  that  girds  the  realm  of  sound 
Leaps  into  music's  shower. 


David  Swing.  jj 

The  throng  of  greater  souls  who  went  before 
Shine  white  as  stainless  snow, 

And  fill  wide  spaces  past  the  luminous  door 
Of  sweet  Death's  pangless  woe. 

The  silences  our  sad  hearts  feared  to  pierce 

Ring  with  a  wondrous  song, 
And  joy  that  holds  at  bay  our  anguish  fierce 

Makes  our  rapt  souls  more  strong. 

There  with  his  peers  he  reaches  home  at  last, 

Knows  that  his  work  is  good, 
His  arduous  toils  and  journeyings  overpast, 

Out  of  the  storm-swept  wood. 

We  also  touch  the  peacefulness  benign 

That  calms  his  risen  soul  ; 
Not  night,  but  glory,  splendid  and  divine, 

Is  Death's  most  certain  goal. 

Like  stars  that  fade  into  the  light  of  day 

Our  vanished  ones  are  sped, 
Treading  a  golden  and  a  flower-lit  way 

Where  Death  alone  is  dead. 


THE  GARDEN  WHERE  THERE  IS  NO 
WINTER. 

"  Se  Dio  ti  lasci,  lettor,  prender  frutto 
Di  tua  lezione." 

— Dante. 

DEHOLD  the  portal ;  open  wide  it  stands, 
And  the  long  reaches  shine  and  still  allure 
To  seek  their  nobler  depths  serene,  secure, 
And  watch  the  waters  kiss  the  yellow  sands 
That  gentle  winds  stir  with  their  sweet  commands  ; 
These  stately  growths  from  age  to  age  endure, 
These  splendid  blooms  glow  in  the  sunlight  pure, 
These    wondrous    works   of     human    hearts   and 
hands. 

Over  the  charmed  space  no  storm  may  rest, 
The  gloomy  hours  avoid  the  magic  bound, 

Homer  dwells  here,  Vergil,  and  all  the  blest 

Whose    perfumed   color   lights    Time's   mighty 
round  ; 

Pluck  the  fruit  freely,  reader,  and  partake, 

God  wills  it — for  the  enchanted  Soul's  fair  sake. 


78 


JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

LOVER  of  country  and  winner  of  men, 
Whither  wanderest  thou  forth  of  our  eyes  ? 
Shall  thy  clear  soul  watch  never  again 
Sunrise  of  gold  in  victorious  skies  ? 

What  is  the  realm  to  which  thou  wouldst  go, 
Freed  from  the  bonds  that  fetter  us  here, 

Far  from  the  winter's  miracle  of  snow, 
And  summer's  splendor,  yellow  and  dear  ? 

Unto  the  good  thou  hast  longed  for  and  felt, 
Unto  the  high  thou  hast  labored  to  win, 

Lands  where  thine  inmost  passion  has  dwelt, 
Regions  where  all  thy  great  hope  has  been, 

Dreams  that  have  risen  in  glory  and  gold 
On  thy  rapt  vision  deeper  than  time, 

Reaches  whereof  thy  strong  singing  has  told, 
Circles  of  Life  fulfilled  and  sublime, 

Gardens  where  blossom  the  noblest  and  best, 
Visible  truth  and  love,  lords  of  all, 

Heaven's  white  mid  and  unspeakable  rest, 
Music's  fine  luminous  passion  and  fall, 
79 


So  James  Russell  Lowell. 

Thither  thou  goest  and  waiting  for  thee, 
Rise  the  immortals,  smiling  and  glad, 

Kings  of  the  Spirit,  whom  Death  set  free, 
Pure  of  the  griefs  which  the  ages  had. 

Toilers  with  thee  in  the  dim,  dead  years, 
Singers  of  songs  in  answer  to  thine, 

Helpers  and  friends  in  the  time  of  fears 

When  the  sun  of  the  land  disdained  to  shine, 

Those  who  watched  and  waited  for  morn, 

While  the  storm  rolled  and  thundered  o'erhead, 

Voicing  the  depth  of  the  whole  world's  scorn 
Of  the  sin  for  which  our  truest  bled, 

Know  thee  and  welcome  thee  home  to  thine  own, 
Thee,  whose  voice  was  a  firm  clarion-call 

Unto  the  battle  whence  victory  has  blown 
Freedom's  awakening  to  bondman  and  thrall. 

Greatest  of  those  who  toiled  for  the  right, 
Poets  and  thinkers,  winners  of  fame, 

Greet  thine  ascent  to  the  summit  of  Light, 
Hold  thee  above  all  praises  and  blame. 

Heaven  has  begirt  thee,  mixed  with  the  tides 
Living,  ennobling,  flowing  through  souls, 

Tides  of  the  just  that  ever  abides, 

Life  from  the  heart  of  the  Spirit  that  rolls. 


James  Russell  Lowell.  8 1 

Light  and  Life  whereof  we  are  fain, 

Thou  hast  attained  them,  splendors  most  pure, 
Thou  who  hast  found  the  realm  without  stain, 

Thou  who  art  one  with  what  must  endure. 

Conclave  divine  of  the  good  and  the  wise, 
Those  of  the  old  as  the  newer  time, 

Hold  him  dear  whose  new-risen  eyes 

Make  a  new  spring  in  your  marvellous  clime. 

We  who  remain  look  up  where  you  are, 

Rise  in  our  dreams  to  your  living's  bright  fire, 

Burst  in  high  moments  our  dull  being's  bar, 
Grow  one  with  you  in  our  passioned  desire. 

And  thee,  O  leader,  we  hearken  and  hear, 
Mingle  our  souls  with  the  motions  of  thine, 

Follow  thy  footsteps  and  watch  appear 

The  stars  in  thy  heaven  of  heavens  and  shine. 

So  shall  thy  spirit,  subtle  and  strong, 

Flood  all  the  land  with  the  truest  of  thee, 

Build  it  in  semblance  of  thy  high  song, 
Make  it  what  thou  wouldst  have  it  to  be  ! 


SLEEP. 


T  NTO  your  dusk  the  strong  man  and  the  weak 
•*■     Pass  and  lay  fear  aside  ;  that  deep  abyss 
Opens  its  wondrous  doors  not  far  to  seek, 

And  grief  forgets  as  joy  its  last  long  kiss  ; 
The  mighty  thinker  on  the  rising  weal 

That  is  to  turn  the  world  from  gloom  to  glow, 
Allows  the  mists  upon  his  eyes  to  steal, 

And  leaves  fleet  time  unto  its  unchecked  flow  ; 
Love  sees  its  stars  grow  dim  and  disappear, 

And  blackness  rule  its  many-glittering  sky, 
Its  life  grow  suddenly  chill,  disbranched,  and  sere, 

Its  hope  dislustered  and  unpanged  its  sigh  ; 
Man  stood  upon  his  height  begirt  by  day, 
Yet  yields  him  where  sleep's  dull  streams  drowse 
away. 


Mayhap  the  lawless  dance  of  nickering  dreams 
Speeds  down  its  twilight  reach  of  spaceless  space, 

As  through  a  sombre  river  yellow  gleams 
Of  light  capricious  in  untutored  race, 

82 


Sleep.  83 

A  myriad  worlds  within  a  moment's  flight, 

A  strange  commingling  of  the  false  and  true, 
Day's  bubbles  foaming  on  the  cup  of  night, 

Trust's  blossoms  growing  on  the  stems  of  rue, 
A  pageantry  that  underprops  at  last 

The  ordered  march  of  things  whereon  the  sun 
Sets  his  live  imprint  as  the  undying  past 

Dwells  in  the  now  whose  course  is  yet  to  run  ; 
The  shadowy  all  yields  up  its  Soul  to  each, 
As  waters  lave  and  kiss  an  island's  beach. 


in. 


Lo  !  doubt  is  gone — like  Sleep's,  Death's  arms  are 
warm, 

His  lips  breathe  next  to  ours  in  ecstasy, 
His  lampless  eyes  awake  the  singing  swarm 

Of  lovely  deeds  and  blisses  yet  to  be  ; 
So  tender-great  is  he  that  all  he  is 

He  gives,  and  then  he  bears  himself  away, 
Knowing  the  need  of  his  pale  ministries, 

Beneath  the  feet  of  the  white  and  hourless  day 
On  Time's  glad  farther  side  ;  so  he  is  one 

With    Sleep    and    no    dull   doom    engirds    man 
round  ; 
For  when  the  might  of  both  is  fully  done, 

They  still   uphold  the  Light-realm's   boundless 
bound, 
Vanishing  in  it,  the  dark  ruled  by  the  fair, 
And  Life  and  Love  growing  permanent  everywhere. 


WALT  WHITMAN. 

"\  \  J  HENCE  is  the  voice  that  I  hear,  so  rich,  so 
sincere,  so  free  ? 
Hark  !  how  it  thrills  the  air 
With  its  mighty  resonant  tones  and  its  cadences 
novel  and  full  ! 
The  singing  awakens  the  land 
With  its  power  and  joyance  and  hope, 
With  its  call  to  labor  and  light  ; 
Whence  does  it  come,  a  wonderful  fountain  of  sil- 
very sound, 
Taking  the  sun  in  all  its  crystalline  drops  ? 

Upward  unto  the  skies,  thou  leap'st  in  very  delight, 

Higher  and  higher  thy  reach, 
O  marvellous  fountain  of  song,  upward  unto  the 
stars  ; 

And  the  fair  manifold  fires 

Studding  the  night  of  Time, 

Scattering  the  beaten  dark, 
Births  from  the  soul  of  all  things,  growing   more 
numerous  and  bright, 

Bicker  and  burn  and  flash  reflected  in  thee. 

S4 


Walt  Whitman.  85 

O  singer,  whence  do  the  visions  come,  whence  does 
thy  soul 
Fill  all  its  longings  deep  ? 
Whence  does  the  might  of  the  rush  of  thy  wide- 
winged,  world-sweeping  song 
Gather  its  splendor  of  flight  ? 
What  are  the  sources  clear, 
What  are  the  fathomless  springs, 
Where   thy   high   passion  lingers  and  dwells  and 
loftily  dreams, 
And  drains  in  great  draughts  the  cup  of  the 
soul  of  the  all  ? 

Not  from  the  scrolls  that  the  strongest  and  best  of 
the  fame-crowned  dead 
Wrote  with  their  lives  for  the  world, 
Not  from  the  records  of    eld  where  the  heart  of 
mankind  is  revealed 
In  stories  varied  and  sad, 
Not  from  the  woods  and  the  winds, 
Nor  the  mountains  peaked  with  old  snows, 
Not  from  the  toil  and  the  tempest  of  moaning  and 
restless  seas, 
Drank'st  thou  the  fluctuant  fervor  that  glows 
in  thy  song. 

Simple  manhood  wert  thou,  and   thy  heart  con- 
fronted in  strength 
The  shows  of  the  vanishing  years, 

Feeling  them  all  to  be  pageants  and  mutable  forms 
of  thyself. 


86  Walt  Whitman. 

Thou  knewest  Poesy  and  Thought, 
Best  births  from  the  Life  of  Man, 
To  be  pictures  and  metaphors  vast 
Of  the  ultimate    Truth    that,  gazing  within,   thy 

penetrant  eyes 
Saw  flowing  beneath  and  around  the  magical 

maze. 

God,  who  is  Man  at  highest,  and  Nature,  that  toils 
up  to  Man, 
Dwelt  in  thy  song  and  in  thee, — 
Not  as  involved  in  the  garb  of  the  dim  and  moul- 
dering Past, 
Not  as  in  tomes  and  in  tombs, 
But  truth,  alive  and  afresh, 
Flowing  again  in  the  mind 
That  gave  up  its  life  to  be  cleansed  and  refilled 
with  that  essence  pure, 
Bubbling  anew  in  the  latter  years  of  the  world  ! 

Presage  of  strength  yet  to  be,  voice  of  the  youngest 
of  Time, 
Singer  of  the  golden  dawn, 
From  thy  great  message  must  come  light  for  the 
bettering  days, 
Joy  to  the  hands  that  toil, 
Might  to  the  hopes  that  droop, 
Power  to  the  Nation  reborn, 
Poet  and  master  and   seer,  helper  and  friend  unto 
men, 
Truth  that  shall  pass  into  the  life  of  us  all  ! 


DRINKING  SONG. 

A  WAKEN,  arouse  you, 
Come  forth  unto  play, 
Rejoice  and  carouse  you, 
Night  conquers  the  day. 

Fill  up  the  bowl  for  us, 
Strengthen  the  song, 

Blisses  shall  roll  for  us, 
Swiftly  along. 

Lo  !  the  glad  night-time 

Much  has  to  live 
Which  the  day's  bright-time 

Knows  not  to  give. 

Under  the  cover 

Of  the  blest  dark 
Hope  bids  her  lover 

Enter  her  bark. 

Forth  to  the  glory, 

Lighting  each  star, 
Splendor-crowned  story 

Where  all  things  are  ! 


87 


ALICE  CARY. 

HP  HE  voice  of  the  western  woods  and  fields 

Save  for  the  note  of  woe 
That  sounded  ever  through  her  song 
Its  monotone  dim  and  slow. 

The  woman-heart  that  suffered  so  much, 

And  clamored  for  the  light — 
Surely  for  her  is  measureless  calm 

On  the  farther  side  of  the  night. 

Breath-close  to  the  common  heart  of  man 

Her  own  heart  lived  and  dwelt, 
Shook  with  the  simpler  joys  earth  knew, 

Its  sorrows  deeplier  felt. 

Now  she  sees  clear  how  through  and  through 
The  ache  and  the  pain  there  wrought 

A  golden  miracle  of  strangest  love 
Far  more  than  her  dream  or  thought. 

Doubtless  she  raises  another  song 

As  near  to  the  woods  and  fields, 
But  one  through  whose  minor  a  long  note  thrills 

That  a  fragrant  gladness  yields. 


83 


EPICEDIUM. 

"\JAY,  but  it  cannot  be, 

Love  rose  for  thee  sweet-starred, 
Making  the  winds  gentlier  blow 
Under  his  watch  and  guard. 

Surely  thou  art  but  asleep, 

Open  thine  unclosing  lips, 
Lift  thine  eyelids  set  cold 

Over  thine  eyes'  dim  eclipse. 

Flowers,  holy  and  white, 

These  befit  thy  clear  soul, 
Perfume,  and  light,  and  pure  song, 

Not  silence,  darkness,  and  dole. 

How  shall  we  bear  thee  hence, 

Under  the  pitiless  skies, 
Under  the  marble  snows, 

Forth  of  our  lingering  eyes  ? 

What  made  our  hearts  so  dull, 
What  made  our  hands  so  weak, 

That  we  could  hold  thee  not  here, 
Thee  whom  blindly  we  seek. 


go  Epicedinm. 

Under  the  cold  white  snows 

Wilt  thou  think  of  those  left  behind  ? 
Nay,  but  thou  canst  not  forget, 

Thou  still  wilt  keep  us  in  mind. 

Sweetest  of  praises  and  thanks, 

Love  that  is  more  than  earth  knows, 

Thanks  for  the  gift  of  thyself, 
Shield  thee  in  thy  repose. 

We  would  not  vex  with  complaints 
The  silence  where  thou  didst  go, 

Yet  our  souls  reach  forth  to  thy  place, 
And  this  thou  surely  must  know. 


EDMUND  CLARENCE   STEDMAN. 


POET. 

["  KNOW  the  way  to  many  a  realm  of  gold, 
And  one  I  pleasure  in  from  day  to  day, 
A  rich  and  lucid  realm  of  perfumed  May, 
With  valleys  in  the  mountains  fold  on  fold, 
And  glimpses  of  the  sea-waves  shorewards  rolled  ; 
Glad  shapes  of  Greece  revisit  the  clear  ray 
Of  regnant  sun,  and  the  famed  water-way 
Flows  thence  unto  Bohemia,  sung  of  old. 

War's  trumpet  there  recalls  to  grander  peace  ; 
The  prince  discloses  all  his  secret  pain, 
Making  the  sadder  truth  of  life  more  plain  ; 
Love  archly  peeps  forth  from  his  milk-white  fleece 
Of  half-concealing  garments,  and  increase 
Of  patriot  fervor  pours  a  wondrous  strain. 

ii. 

CRITIC. 

There  too  I  seek  a  mountain's  upper  air, 

Whence  Poesy's  every  kingdom  lies  revealed, 
Bathed  in  the  light  that  never  shone  on  field 

Or  river  ;  Landor  lifts  his  forehead  bare 
91 


92  Edmund  Clarence  Stcdman. 

Unto  the  kissing  winds,  and  the  far  blare 

Of  horns  re-echoes   through   the  woods  which 

yield 
King   Arthur's   name  and  knights  from  depths 
unsealed, 
And  Browning  shows  the  soul  how  passing  fair. 

The  lordships  of  the  sovereign  world  of  song 
Glow  in  the  all-transfiguring  element, 
And  high  above  them  with  divine  intent 
Hovers  the  glory  whither  poets  throng, 
Light  mixed  with  music,  triumph  over  wrong, 
The  splendor  Dante  knew  beneficent. 

in. 

FRIEND    OF    POETS. 

Noble  as  song,  or  insight  keen  and  deep 
Into  the  heart  of  poets,  is  the  skill, 
Product  of  luminous  thought  and  perfect  will, 

To  lure  desire  to  climb  the  rugged  steep 

Where  high  achievement  waits,  and  watchers  keep 
Eyes  on  the  wheeling  skies  which  bright  stars  fill, 
And  flame  by  flame  new  revelations  thrill 

The  pulses  that  responsive  bound  and  leap. 

Intimate  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Time, 

Friend  of  the  Hope  which  through  the  ages  runs, 

He  reaches  out  unto  the  eager  ones 
Whose  dreams  forever  shape  themselves  in  rhyme, 
And  build  the  bridge  unto  the  calmer  clime 

Which  feels  the  strength  of  more  benignant  suns. 


AT  EVERY  CRISIS. 

When  the  Conflict  glooms  and  lowers 
And  the  Nation  is  at  point  to  fall 
Under  the  whip  and  thrall 

Of  the  mad  and  conscienceless  powers 

Whose  touch  is  ever  at  her  very  throat, 
From  the  deepmost parts  of  her  soul 
Is  heard  the  resounding  roll 

Of  the  impassioned  warning  note. 


TJARK  to  the  burst  of  the  unanimous  voice 

■*■  -■•     That  pours  from  forth  the  Country's  inmost 

hope, 
Response  to  those  dull  hearts  whose  vain  Rejoice, 

And  loudening  cries  of  victory  rent  the  cope 
Of  goodness  doming  the  indignant  land, 
And  loosened  ruinous  storm  on  every  hand. 
Now  all  the  joined  winds  are  full 
Of  sonance  nobler  and  desirable  ; 
Not  yet  given  over  to  the  sordid  greed 

Of  men  who  boast  the  itching  palm, 
93 


94  -At  Every  Crisis. 

Aroused  from  slumber  in  our  hour  of  need, 
And  shattering  chains  of  all-benumbing  calm, 

We  say  into  your  patient  ear,  O  Earth, 
We  have  forgotten  not  our  generous  trust, 

Nor  shamed  the  promise  of  our  birth, 

Nor  stand  besprent  with  utter  failure's  dust. 


ii. 


In  woods  of  a  subtler  Time-world, 

The  spiritual  image  of  this, 
The  Republic  lay  and  slumbered, 

Secure  in  established  bliss. 
The  winds  of  a  summer  unfailing 

Blew  perfumes  about  her  face, 
And  dreams  of  her  growing  fruitions    ' 

Made  peace  in  her  heart  for  a  space. 
But  the  hunters  crept  craftily  on  her, 

And  fettered  her  glorious  limbs, 
And  strove  to  deepen  her  slumbers 

With  their  sorcery  of  sensuous  hymns. 
Meanwhile  Disgrace  and  Disaster 

Made  havoc  upon  the  realm, 
And  the  shameless  among  her  children 

Grasped  hold  of  the  country's  helm. 
She  slept  and  joy  of  her  slumber 

Half  lulled  us  too  to  repose, 
And  darkened  our  eyes  to  the  future, 

Grown  forgetful  of  our  woes. 
But  the  scorn  of  the  insolent  master, 

And  sound  of  his  merciless  whip, 


At  Every  Crisis.  95 

Have  broken  the  spell  of  the  blindness 

That  on  us  began  to  slip. 
We  raised  our  voice  and  our  crying 

Pierced  far  to  her  secret  abode, 
And  she  shook  off  her  chains  like  dewdrops, 

And  forth  to  our  helping  she  strode. 
She  spoke  and  the  scourge  that  threatened 

Vanished  more  fleet  than  the  air, 
She  gazed  and  the  Nation  trembled 

Into  heights  of  being  more  fair. 


in. 


O  spirits  of  the  great  departed, 

Watching  the  seed  you  sowed  in  life, 
Immortal  souls  and  truest-hearted 
Of  all  who  plunged  into  the  strife 
Of  our  deep-colored  years, 
You  shall  not  see  your  fields  neglected, 

Nor  all  undone  your  strenuous  task, 
Our  heads  bowed  down  and  minds  dejected, 
Beneath  their  power  who  lie  and  bask 
Where  you  and  your  great  peers 
Yet  left  unto  our  fears 
Pondered  upon  the  country's  weal 
And  those  high  deeds  but  large  hearts  feel. 
We  grant  you  this  most  firm  assurance, 

We  shall  set  foot  upon  the  way 
Made  certain  by  your  calm  endurance, 
And  leading  straight  into  the  day 
Of  national  honor's  might  ; 


96  At  Every  Crisis. 

The  echoing  words  of  warning  spoken 

By  you  within  the  elder  time, 
We  shall  forget  not,  and  in  token 

That  our  endeavors  must  make  rhyme 
With  your  intents  aright, 
And  aims  with  hope  alight, 
We  broke  the  bonds  wherewith  they  held  us 
Who  forth  on  alien  paths  compelled  us. 


IV. 


Thus  do  we  walk  secure  and  growing  masters  still 
Of  our  fair  fate  and  Freedom's  firm  establish- 
ment ; 
We  should  not  falter  more  but  up  the  steepmost  hill 
Climb  with  unwearied  step  until  the  Great  Event 
Will  sunwise  flood  the  world  and  from  just  Free- 
dom's flame 
The  star-like  nations  all  will  gather  fire  and  glow, 
Till  Error's  latest  ghost  will  seek  Night's  deepening 
shame, 
And  every  vale  and  hill  the  reign  of  gladness 
know. 


ROSES. 

I   WANDERED  lonesome  and  depressed 
Along  a  barren  road  ; 
The  sun  was  in  the  west 

And  faintly  showed 
A  dim  and  half  discolored  face 
Through  clouds  that  held  the  sunset's  place. 

I  heard  no  sound  of  wave  or  bird, 

The  air  was  gray  and  chill, 
And  in  me  scarcely  stirred 

The  languid  will 
To  cast  from  me  the  dull  dismay 
That  clasped  me  with  the  lengthening  way. 

But  suddenly  I  turned  and  saw 

One  tree  deep-leaved  and  tall, 

Possessed  of  might  to  draw 
All  eyes  and  call 

The  heart  back  from  the  shadowy  land 

Where  hope  uplifts  no  beckoning  hand. 

For  round  it  roses  twined  and  clung, 

And  in  the  risen  breeze 
The  blossoms  swayed  and  swung  ; 
97 


98  Roses. 

As  one  who  sees 
A  friend's  dear  face  amid  a  throng, 
My  soul  awoke  and  grew  more  strong. 

Just  then  the  waning  sunset  spurned 
The  dusk  that  gathered  strength, 

And  all  the  roses  burned 
Like  stars  at  length, 

And  I  felt  power  to  walk  the  road 

Where  such  like  splendor  shone  and  glowed. 


THE  NEW  WORLD. 

Love  thou  thy  land,  with  love  far-brought 
From  out  the  storied  Past,  and  used 
Within  the  Present,  but  transfused 

Thro'  future  time  by  power  of  thought. 

— Tennyson. 


99 


©teure,  mutfyiger  ©egler !  (S3  mag  ber  2Bt^  SDid) 
berfybljnen, 
llnbber  ©differ  am  ©tcucr  fenfcn  bie  tafftge  |)anb. 
^mmer,  immer  nad;  SBcft !  S)ort  mufj  bie  $iifte  fid) 
geigen, 
Stegt  fie  bod)  bcutlid),  unb  licgi  fdjlummernb  bot 
SDetnem  SScrftanb. 
Straue  bem  leitertbcn  dtott  unb  folge  bent  fd)tt>cigenben 
SBeltmcer ! 
2Bar  fie  bod)  nidjt,  fie  fiicg  jefct  cu§  ben  gluten 
empor. 
3Rit  bem  ©eniu§  fteljt  bie  51atur  in  efoigem  SSunbe ; 
2Ba§  bie  eine  berfbridjt,  Iciftet  bie  cmbre  gettrifi. 

—Stiller. 


THE  NEW  WORLD. 

PROEM 

TO  THE  WOMEN  OF  AMERICA. 


PHE  century's  unrelenting  strength  of  quest 
Has  followed  Thought  through  blossoms 
and  through  weeds, 
And  found  (men  say)  that  every  pathway 
leads 
Into  a  cloudland  where  the  footing  prest 
Is  the  insubsistence  of  a  sea's  unrest  ; 

An  island  in  an  ocean  of  mere  dream, 
The  life  which  hoped  a  truest  and  a  best 
Learns  that  the  best  and  truest  only  seem  ; 
A  bitter,  helpless  creed  ! 
No  wonder-working  deed 
Can  thence  draw  vigor  which  should  surely 

stream 
Through  all  its  pulses,  and  its  fire  must  deem 
Itself  a  strange  subversion  of  the  law 
Holding  vague  insecurity  in  awe  ; 
A  luminous  truth  that  truth  is  built  on  ignorance, 
And  Time's  endeavor   vast    the    dazzling  gift    of 
chance ! 

ior 


102  To  the  Wometi  of  America. 


Nay,  we  are  not  deceived  ;  no  lampless  night 
Glooms  round  the  world  and  hope  with  its 

despair  ; 
Thought  winged  rises  into  regions  fair 
Where  is  the  dominant,  all-transfiguring  light ; 
Faith  has  revealed  the  heart  of  Love  aright 
That  beats  through  history's  tempest  and  its 
roar, 
The  felt  decadence  of  the  selfless  might 

Sweeps  from  the  skies  the  cloud-heaps  more 
and  more  ; 

Who  now  shall  further  doubt 
That  a  most  dismal  rout 
Waits  the  dull  fears,  whose  threatenings  loud 

and  sore, 
With  bannered  hosts,  against   our   temples 
bore? 
Unshattered  on  the  Heavenward-looking  hill 
The  marble  splendor  fronts  the  sunrise  still  ; 
The  blue-eyed  Goddess  smiles  and  turns  her  un- 
veiled shield 
Upon  the  invading  bands,  who  strew  the  smoking 
field. 

in. 

Yet  progress  has  been  devious  and  slow  : 
The  Spirit  sometimes  has  been  out  of  breath 
And  pale  unto  the  very  verge  of  death  ; 

Fierce  as  the  mountain  torrent's  sudden  flow, 


To  the  Women  of  America.  103 

Erratic  as  the  wildest  winds  that  blow, 

The  movement  oft  has  seemed  to  rush  and 
fall 
Down    steeps    and    crags  where  safety  might 
not  go  : 
Then  the  swift  stream   has   made    a  sharp 
recall 

Into  its  truer  bed, 
And  by  some  influence  led 
That  keeps  its  foam-flecked  waves  in  juster 

thrall, 
Has  bounded  forward  to  the  longed-for  hall„ 
Windy  and  large,  with  changing  sky,  and  free, 
The  waters'  end  and  aim,  the  brilliant  sea  ; 
So  hope,  the    sea-gull,  lifts  his    more    adventurous 

wings, 
Lured   by   the   flaming   sun   wherewith   the   wide 
world  sings. 


IV. 


Some  clear-eyed  angel  must  have  watched  and 
tended 
The   growths   of  love  and  patience   in  the 

heart, 
Some  wisdom  guarded  with  divinest  art 
Gentleness,  faith,  and  sweet  assurance,  blended 
Into    a    dream    which    saw    the    storm    tran- 
scended ; 
Chief  wonder  that  such  fragile  blooms  sur- 
vived 


104  To  the  Women  of  America. 

Amid  the  conflict  seemingly  never  ended, 
Chief  miracle  that  they  none  the  less  con- 
trived 

To  taste  the  finer  air 
Which  is  their  daily  fare  ; 
Securely  in  the  rudest  bosom  hived, 
And  from  the  sternest  gloom  and  rage  re- 
vived, 
Their  very   slightness  gave  them  strength  to 

gain 
Gradual  possession  of  the  changed  domain  ; 
For  they  are  of  the  tribe  which  toil  and  strive  the 

best 
When  they  are  needed  most  and  days  are  dismalest. 


Love  felt  the  bitterness  in  those  ancient  days, 
Being  forced  to  mask  as  passion  base  and 

rude, 
And  mother  of  a  fierce  and  brawling  brood, 
Hatreds    that   used   the  noonday's   sovereign 

blaze 
To  lamp  man  further  on  destruction's  ways  ; 

Yet  even  then  Love  knew  to  claim  and  charm, 
And  hold  the  impregnable  and  awless  gaze  ; 
Amid  the  wanton  revelry  of  harm 
Arose  the  prophetess 
Touched  by  God's  own  caress, 
And  led  the  clan  in  hours  of  dire  alarm  ; 


To  the  Women  of  America.  105 

So  woman's  weak  and  terrorless  right  arm 
Pointed  the  pathway  men  were  glad  to  take, 
And  then  as  now  her  words  were  strong  to 
wake 
The  trembling  higher  moods,  that  slowly  came  to 

win 

The   place   of  gradual   rule    and   power   the  soul 
within. 

VI. 

But  Love  was  lured  by  glamour  of  delight 
Into  forgetfulness  of  loftier  aims, 
And  sank  to   depths  that  were  not  unlike 
shame's  ; 
Set  in  a  paradise  of  softest  might, 
And  lulled  in  dreams  that  made  the  heavens  a 
slight 
And   empty  thing  to  lose,  weighed   in  the 

scale 
With  sense  imperial,  and  suffused  aright 
With  the  refined  and  subtly  sweet  avail, 
The  hours  wore  on  apace, 
Touching  with  hands  that  lace 
And   part   in   a   strange   dance's   measured 

pale,  . 

And   pleasure    said    at   heart   its    faint   All 

hail ! 
Lest  too  loud  speaking  should  evoke  the  death 
Which  must  wait   on  such  perilous  charmed 

breath  ; 


106  To  the  Women  of  America. 

Shut  in  these  mist-built  walls  the  world's  strength 

feminine 
Slumbered,  but  knew  in  visions  that  its  sleep  was  sin. 

VII. 

Could  the  imprisonment  last  ?     Nay,  warrior 
queens 
Threw  the   frail  chains  from  off  them  like 

clear  dew 
Shed  from  the  flank  of  lioness  when  new 
The  sanguine  sunrise  bursts  the  leafy  screens  ; 
Or  radiant  motherhood  pre-eminent  leans 

From  its  enforced  seclusion  and  requires 
Room  for  the  growth  whose  dear  supremacy 
weans 
From  base  subjection  to  unleashed  desires  ; 
Or  the  lithe  sorceress 
With  eyes  of  wild  excess 
Warmed    her    ambitions  at    great    empire's 

fires  ; 
Or  the  loud  triumphs  of  impassioned  lyres, 
Mixed  with  low  wailings  of  a  life  suppressed, 
Floated  across  the  time  like  foam  on  crest 
Of  fluctuant  waters,  or  a  meteor's  lingering  track, 
Paling  the  stars  themselves,  over  night's  depth  of 
black. 

VIII. 

The  masculine  might  of  will  arose  supreme 
In  the  white  mid  of   heaven  ;   now  woman- 
hood. 


To  the  Women  of  America.  107 

Co-equal,  potent,  fair,  beside  him  stood, 
No    mistress   and   no   daughter,    some  bright 

dream 
Of  golden  wisdom,  or  a  vague  foregleam 
Of  love's  own  pureness,  but  that  love's  great 
whole, 
That  wisdom's  rich  and  self-concentred  stream 
Having  known  grief  and  ruler  of  the  soul  ; 
A  new  life  was  begun, 
Lit  by  a  female  sun, 
Wherewith  earth  thrilled  from  its  stern  pole 

to  pole, 
As  hope  sweeps  through  the  reaches  of  the 

soul  ; 
The  future  spoke  unto  the  present  pale, 
The  new  light  overflowed  the  horizon's  veil, 
The  dominations  barbarous  of  the  twilight  heard 
Above  them   sound   the  rumor  of  their  dooming 
word. 

IX. 

Two  equal  powers  in  all  life's  separate  spheres, 
Two  streams  of  influence  working  out  the 

good, 
Two  infinite  forms  of  potent  servanthood, 
Two   strengths   arrayed  against    dark  doubts 

and  fears, 
The  feeling  whose  fine  clearness  knows  and 
hears, 
The  intelligence  that  is  sweet  warmth  and 
glow, 


108  To  the  Women  of  America. 

The  instinct  whose  forthrightness  never  veers, 
The   thought  which  pierces  thorough  sense 
and  show, 

With  freedom  everywhere 
To  build  the  high  and  fair, 
Each  being  rich  soil  for  other's  hand  to  sow, 
And  inner  space  where  nobler  harvests  grow, 
Life's  centre  found  in  each  and  outer  rim 
Reaching  beyond  the  stars  most  distant-dim, 
Until  the  end  is  gained  where  temporal  difference 
Fades  in  the  light  of  heaven,  supreme,  unstained, 
intense. 


x. 


O  Western  World  !  what  the  long  strain  and 
toil 
Of  the  mighty  periods  wrought  and  bravely 

won 
Leave  unto  you  the  mightier  toil  undone  ; 
Here  is  the  land  of  promised  wine  and  oil, 
Here  is  the  State  which  many  failures  soil 
Incarnated  anew  and  strong  once  more, 
Alert,  high-hearted,  and  equipped  to  foil 
The  dangers  that  confront    us    with    their 
roar  ; 

Here  is  the  land  of  gold 
Which  wise  men  seek  to  hold, 
Not  gold  whose  heapings  mock  with  longing 

sore, 
But  the  pure  metal  which  for  helmet  wore 


To  the  Women  of  America.  109 

And  shield  the  brave  who  saw  and  loved  the 

right, 
And  thence  were   filled  with  the  eager  con- 
quest's might  ; 
O  golden  land  of  ours  !     Arise  and  strive  to  be 
Time's  purposes  attained,  Freedom  and  Victory  ! 


THE  OLD  WORLD. 

In  the  great  morning  of  the  world, 
The  Spirit  of  God  with  might  unfurled 
The  flag  of  Freedom  over  Chaos, 

And  all  its  banded  anarchs  fled, 
Like  vultures  frighted  from  Imaus 

Before  an  earthquake's  tread. 

— Shelley. 


THE  OLD  WORLD. 


f~*  OD'S  Thought  rose  clear  before  him  and 
^^     he  said  : 

"  Lo  !     I  will  fashion  for  mine  eyes  to  see 
The  mighty  miracle  of  Liberty  ; 
Unto  my  will  shall  many  wills  be  wed, 
With  mine  own  life  shall  lesser  lives  be  fed, 

With  mine  own  being  filled  and  wondrous  fire, 
The  increasing  light  by  which  all  hearts  are  led 
Unto  the  summit  of  supreme  desire  ; 
From  glowering  suns  and  stars, 
From  elemental  wars, 
From  interflux  of  powers  and  savage  ire 
That  bid  the  engirding  night  pause  and  ad- 
mire, 
From  anguish  and  despair,  the  wordless  brood 
That  haunt  the  expanse  of  forests  primal-rude, 
I  will  bring  forth  that  mine  unenvying  soul  may 

know 
The  lofty  love  wherewith  but  Freedom's  self  can 
glow." 

113 


114  The  Old  World. 


ii. 


Then  forth  into  the  night  a  tumult  spread, 
The  fierce  contentions  of  contrarious  powers, 
And  loud  the  noise  was  of  the  risen  hours, 
And  each  one  on  the  lust  of  battle  fed, 
And  life  seemed  with  the  horror  stricken  dead  ; 

Then  crescent,  pale,  mysteriously  born, 
Like  a  low  word  divinely  breathed  and  said, 
Light  rose  on  the  abyss  whose  ravenous  scorn 
Lay  soothed  into  a  smile, 
And  slowly  perished  while 
The  blue  skies  rose  above,  and  overworn 
The  void  gave  way  where  earths  with  many 
a  horn 
And  curving  gulf  held  back  the  seething  waves, 
And    mastered  them  and   ruled  them   as  the 
slaves 
Of  large  intents  to  come,  and  grasses  clothed  the 

rocks 
And  blossoms  burned  amid  in  softly  colored  flocks. 


in. 


So  shone  the  glory  of  the  sun  and  night 

Became  resplendent  with  her  stars  and  moon, 

And  life  began  to-  tremble  where  its  boon 

Had  fallen  on  silence,  and  the  morn's  firm  light 

Broke  its  strange  trance,  and  into  joy  and  sight 

Burst  the  quick  dance  of  wondrous  sensitive 

things, 


The  Old  World.  1 1 5 

And  seas  were   peopled  with  vast   forms  of 
might, 
And  in  the  trees  a  myriad  music  rings, 
And  the  untimorous  sod 
By  manifold  shapes  was  trod, 
And  lo  !  in  forest  deep,  beside  clear  springs, 
And  on  the  mountain  sides  where  each  wind 
sings, 
Beneath  the  skies  where  gold  clouds  rose  and 

fled, 
Like  breaths  of  bliss  when  hope  and  aim  are 
wed, 
While  expectation  knew  how  far  the  miracle  ran 
Beyond  its  farthest,  came  the  consummation,  Man. 

IV. 

In  the  cold  dusk  of  caverns  and  by  waves 
Of  inland  waters  or  on  island  shores 
Roared  and  resounded  the  first  reinless  wars 
Of  nameless  and  unnumbered  tribes  ;    fierce 

slaves 
Of  bitter  passion  and  the  fear  which  graves 

Its  horror  deep  upon  the  heart,  and  makes 
The  world  a  vast  impendence  whose  gloom 
laves 
Half    lamplessly ;    for    no    sharp   lightning 
breaks 

It  save  ghost  newly  fled 
Into  lands  of  the  dead, 
Capricious  answer  giving  for  their  wild  sakes 


Ii6  The  Old  World. 

Who  raise  loud-ringing  prayers  like  sea  that 
breaks 
Upon  a  rock-bound  shore  with  noisy  foam  ; 
Pain  drives  them  forth  from  wasted  home  to 
home, 
And  fashions  serpents,  rocks,  or  trees  into  a  god 
Of  potenced  nothingness,  a  mind-created  rod. 


But  the  brave  sun  arose  in  kinglihead 

From  darkness  of  the  night  and  men  looked 

forth 
And  saw  his  hand  in  blessing  laid  from  north 
To  kindlier  south,  and  their  swift  longing  sped 
About  his  footsteps  ;  so  their  watchings  bred 
Hopes  of  emerging  from  their  deeps  of  pain, 
Unto  a  lustrous  height  of  being  led, 
And  golden  zenith  of  unvarying  gain  ; 
They  gladly  saw  the  sway 
Of  heroes,  and  the  day 
Of  gradual  peace  began  to  shine  and  reign, 
And  faith  to  purge  itself  of  the  earth-born 
stain  ; 
Then  through  the  vales  the  herds  began  to  pass 
Where  the  sweet   waters  wet   the  thickening 
grass, 
And  round  the  loftier  dwelling  of  the  chief  and 

king 
Rose  hum  of  toilers  and  the  voice  of  maids  who 
sing. 


The  Old  World.  H7 


VI. 


The  restless  thought  with  inner  fire  aflame, 
Like   lamp   soft    glowing   through   its  rosy 

screen, 
Illumed  again  what  the  eager  eyes  had  seen, 
And  deeper  toil  of  spirit  strove  to  frame 
Anew  its  large  possessions  and  lay  claim 
Upon  a  broad  demesne  that  bloomed  and 
shone 
Above  it,  a  miraculous  realm  to  tame, 

Ruling  the  outer  one  of  grief  and  moan  ; 
The  silver  dreams  that  throng 
Give  birth  to  wondrous  song, 
To  myth  and  story  winged  with  rhythmic 

tone, 
And  hopes  that  are  the  very  spirit's  own  ; 
Whence  flow  a  greater  mastery  and  skill 
Which  hold  the  tribes  in  friendlier  chain  and 
will, 
And  bind  in  golden  sheaves  what  has  been  sought 

and  done 
And  are  the  presage  of  the  height  already  won. 


VII. 


Then  order  rose  beside  the  calm-waved  sea, 
First  subsidence  of  the  submerging  fate, 
A  mighty  people  and  a  kingdom  great, 

Homaging  strength  of  glorious  ancestry. 

Their  king  was  father  ;  his  wise  empery 


Ii8  The  Old  World. 

Ensouled  his  subjects  and  confirmed  their 
deed, 
So  that  they  grew  and  wove  for  men  to  be 
A  fabric  of  observance  where  the  need 
Of  worship  of  the  law 
Stood  forth  in  perfect  awe  ; 
A  noble  issue  with  the  power  to  breed 
The    thoughts   that   who   would    live  must 
know  and  read  ; 
Their  seer,  Confucius,  spoke  such  words  to 

men 
As  have  not  ceased  their  sounding,  denizen 
Of  the  high  heaven  of  meek  obedience,  leader  sure 
Into  the  land  of  peace  which  shall  at  last  endure. 


VIII. 


Under  the  fervid  skies,  and  'mid  the  growth 
Of  tangled  forests  where  the  mountains  vast 
Circle  the  shaded  glens,  a  gloomy  past 
Enwraps  a  nobler  people  ;  ever  loth 
To  grasp  the  present  firmly,  seeing  both 

The  worlds  of  earth  and  heaven  in  mist  of 
dreams 
Enrobed  and  mingled,  they  seemed  bound  by 
oath 
Of  high  allegiance  to  the  One  who  gleams 
Recedingly  on  the  gaze 
Turned  Himwards  ;  by  what  ways 
Of    severence   from  the   body,  down  what 
streams 


The  Old  World.  1 19 

Of  anguish  did  they  seek  Him  ;   the  land 
teems 
With  monstrous  shapes  and  visions   that  en- 
thrall ; 
And  chiefly  you,  O  Buddh,  the  foiled  ones  call 
Savior  and  friend,  you  clothed  in  contemplation's 

rest, 
And  finding  loss  of  all  and  nothingness  the  best. 


IX. 


Forth  came  the  sun  of  Persia,  worshippers 
Of  golden  fires  warring  upon  the  dark, 
And  dimly  conscious  of  the  answering  spark 
That  lights  each  heart  with  dream  of  truth, 

and  errs 
Not  in  such  dreaming  ;  lofty  characters 

Of  fixed  purpose  to  bear  unto  men, 
Despite  the  frowning  hindrance  which  deters, 
The  glow  of  spirit  trembling  back  again 
Unto  the  sovereign  splendor, 
As  star  is  star's  attender  ; 
The  soldier  people  rose  from  rocky  glen 
And  rivered  plain,  and  earth  was  gladdened 
when 
Their  victories  brought  the  myriad  tribes  to  be 
The  children  of  the  flame  whose  leaping  free 
And  wind-souled  bounding  skywards  it  was  joy  to 

make 
A  symbol  of   the  hope  that  burns  for  all  men's 
sake. 


120  The  Old  World. 


Beside  the  inland  deep  whose  blue-waved  flow 

Makes  path  dividuous  unto  luring  realms, 

That  visioned  speed  the   flight  of   fearless 

helms 

Breaking  through  veils  of  distance,  whither  go 

The  race's  hopes,  which  dimly  seem  to  know 

The  fate  of  freedom  showing  like  a  sun 
On  the  sky's  verge,  where  luminous  mists  rise 
slow, 
Dispersing  from  before  the  blaze  begun, 
The  heroic  sailor  land 
Uplifts  her  puissant  hand  ; 
Lo!  white-sailed  commerce  bids  her  mariners 

shun 
No  vague  far  water-ways,  nor  leave  undone 
A  toil  that  wrests  new  lands   from  weltering 

seas  ; 
Brave  like  her  god,  much  toiling  Hercules, 
And  finding  even  pain  a  mystery  of  the  heart 
Disclosing  devious  paths  of  conquest's  peerless  art. 


XI. 


O  wondrous  people  of  the  tortured  fate, 

People  grown  strong  with  very  sight  of  God, 
Strong  to  make  live  your  stormy  period 
In  the  wide  soul  of  earth  forever,  hate 
And  dark  despair  upon  your  footsteps  wait 
For  weary  centuries  ;  giving  God  to  man, 


The  Old  World.  121 

Revealing  the  sure  mean  to  dissipate 

The  bitterness  of  woes  that  rose  and  span 
A  mist  of  fear  around  him 
Age-long  that  held  and  bound  him, 
Ye  failed  in  your  own  destiny  and  wan 
A  gloomy  severance  from  the  hope  that  ran 
Like  a  swift  bearer  of  the  brilliant  torch 
Before  you  ;  now  within  the  thronged  porch 
Of  the  white  temple  of  the  future  ye  too  stand 
And  your  own  God  will  ope  and  answer  your  de- 
mand. 


XII. 


What  looms  against  the  purple  air,  white  flame 
Of  stone  that  seems  to  climb  and  to  aspire, 
The  winged  thing  of  manifold  desire 
Before  it,  brooding  and  depressed  with  shame, 
The    dumb  eyes    sad  with    question  and   the 
blame 
Of  sore  defeat  ?  has  Heaven  no  answer  fit  ? 
Lo  !    the  soul  waits,  judged  and  set  free  to 
claim 
The  guerdon,  in  the  citadel,  unlit 
By  lamp  of  any  hope, 
And  lingering  out  the  scope 
Of  its  great  longing  ;  near  the  temples  sit 
Memnonian  figures  and  the  walls  are  writ 
With  scrolls  of  ancient  days,  but  through  the 

aisles 
Oppression  hovers  and  the  voiceless  piles 


122  The  Old  World. 

Answer  not  anything  and  toward  the  silver  sea 
The  dreaming  land  looks  whence  the  wished  re- 
sponse must  be. 


XIII. 


In  after  days,  O  dim-eyed  Orient, 

Your   countless   armies    crossed   the  wind- 
swept straits 
And  shook  the  soil  where  fearless  Freedom 
waits 
Your  foiled  attack  ;  backwards  you  fled  fore- 
spent 
And  baffled  in  your  mighty  world-intent  ; 
Your  eyes  were  wan  with  pallid  dreams  and 
dreads, 
Your  footsteps  faltered  on  the  ways  besprent 
With  battle's  wreck,  and  the  imperial  heads 
Of  Europe's  leaders  young 
Upon  your  dazed  sight  sprung, 
And  your  vast  half-thoughts  sank  into  live 

beds 
Of  world-remembrances,  the  potent  dead's 
Last  influx  into  Power's  re-arisen  bloom  ; 
You  could  not  rend  the  heavy  primitive  doom 
That  swathed  you  and  the  fire  of  soul  and  joined 

God 
Burst  on  the  plains  which  beaten  hordes  of  yours 
had  trod. 


The  Old  World.  123 


XIV. 


O  land  most  radiant  of  the  ancient  world, 
Which  burst  the  troubled  dream  wherein 

time  lay, 
And  shone  the  crimson  dawn  of  very  day 
And  life  arisen  in  fields  with  dew  impearled, 
And  over  which  the  vanishing  vapors  curled, 

Uncovering  the  sky  and  mounting  sun, 
Before  you  fear  and  wrath  swept  downwards 
whirled 
To  the  deeps  of  the  abysses  unbegun  ; 
Freedom  awoke  with  Greece, 
And  violet-crowned  peace, 
The  soul  was  born  and  thought's  first  vic- 
tory won, 
God  stood  in  manhood's  guise,  and  the  fore- 
done 
Base  monsters  of  the  ancient  dread  and  terror 
Sank  backwards  from  their  pride  of  height  and 
error, 
Being  made  subservient  to  the  splendid  dance  of 

Love 
And  Beauty,  come  to  earth  from  realms  of  Powers 

above. 

xv. 

Unto  world-conquest  you  marched  forth,   O 
Rome, 
Grandest  of  powers  in  the  long  roll  of  time, 


124  The  Old  World. 

And  shaper  of  the  commonweal  sublime 
In  which  all  peoples  found  a  place  and  home  ; 
You  knew  with  your  firm  legions  on  to  roam 

And  bind  more  wonderful  than  theirs  a  law 
Upon  the  toiling  kingdoms  ;  in  the  tome 
Of  God's  own  strength  your  searching  in- 
sight saw 

A  form  of  dominance 
That  held  your  charmed  glance  ; 
And  long  as  sovereignty  kept  close  your  awe 
Set  on  man's  right  to  build,  bereft  of  flaw, 
His  inner  life  of  choice  into  brave  sight 
Of  majesty  and  rule  and  visible  might, 
The  world  was  all  your  own  ;  deepener  of  thought 

to  will, 
Although  your  own  hand  slew  you,  yet  you  rule 
earth  still. 


Next  rose  the  star  of  wonder  in  the  east, 
And  wise  and  lowly  came  to  worship  where 
The  babe  lay  in  the  manger  ;  light  more  fair 
And  from  diviner  realms  led  to  the  feast 
Which  welcomed  chief  the  one  who  came  as 
least ; 
Earth's  monarchies  and  national  gods 
Trembled  upon  their  thrones,  and  day  increased 
With  passing  of  the  worn-out  periods  ; 
The  realm  of  the  within 
Was  opened,  and  the  din 


The  Old  World.  125 

Of  outer  pomp  fell  with  the  lictor's  rods  ; 
From  the  great  forest's  moist  and  sun-flecked 
sods 
Swept  the  blue-eyed  renewer  and  for  him 
God  rose  in  spirit  and  truth  ;  the  Orient  dim 
Clasped  hands  with  ardent  Greece,  and  knowledge 

of  the  soul 
Glowed  on  the  peoples  as  their  life's  supremest 
goal. 

xvn. 

The  time  lay  weltering  in  mere  shame  and  fear, 
Monstrous   with    hopelessness   and    strange 

self-scorn 
Whence  every  form  of  wild  desire  was  born, 
And  passions  that  fulfilment  made  more  drear. 
There  was  but  one  huge  empire,  and  the  near 

Self-slaughter  in  its  dead  forgetfulness 
Of  elder  purposes  made  it  appear 

Mere  evanescence  into  space  ;  to  bless 
The  uncharactered  vastitude 
And  pour  life  fierce-renewed 
Into  that  chaos  of  world-wide  distress, 
And  cleanse  with  storm  for  touch  of  God's 
caress 
Upon  his  children's  forehead,  burst  and  ran 
The  foaming  hordes  of  the  barbarian, 
And  power  again  ensouled  with  what  must  surely  be 
Saw  freedom's  sun  cloud-burdened  risen  above  the 
sea. 


126  The  Old  World. 

XVIII. 

Sure  inwardness  and  self-unfolding  thought, 
Spirit's  fine  motions  in  each  struggling  heart, 
The  whole  of  life  resurgent  in  the  part, 
Were   new   achievements ;    truth   within   was 

brought 
Unto  a  growing  vivid  radiance,  wrought 

By  troubled  flight  from  the  mere  tangible  ; 
Pulsings  of  soul  the  old  world  never  sought, 
And  nobler  governance  of  holier  will, 
The  blonde-haired  Northener 
Felt  in  him  start  and  stir, 
Whence  bloom  transformed  the  meadow  and 

the  hill, 
Which  deeper  carols  of  the  poets  thrill ; 
The  lands  which  had  been  savagely  estranged 
Once  more  in  brief  bright  unity  were  ranged  ; 
They  had  gone  through  sad  years,  yet  into  every 

man 
Entered  a  love  wherewith  his  blood  more  freely  ran. 

XIX. 

Mistress  of  realms  celestial,  and  the  spouse 
Of  God  himself,  bride  of  the  heavenly  King, 
Whose  solacing  song  your  magic  lips  made 
ring 
Above  the  weary  peoples,  to  your  house 
Of  comfort  which  the  time  half  disallows, 
And  your  hand's  patient  touch  and  domi- 
nance, 


The  Old  World.  127 

Fled  the  world-hunted  and  sin-branded  brows 
And    gathered    light    from    your    uplifting 
glance. 

O  founded  on  God's  rock, 
And  shepherdess  of  the  flock, 
Who  looked  for  calm  amid  the  whirl  and 

chance 

Of  evil  days,  O  Church,  who  saw  advance 

The  slow  sun  up  the  higher-stretching  skies, 

Until  power  wooed  you  with  his  glozing  lies, 

You  held  the    sacred  keys,  and    your  conviction 

turned 
The  wheel  of  progress  and  with  truth  your  deep 
eyes  burned. 


xx. 


A  sovereign  rose,  whose  wise  unfaltering  hand 
Laid  hold  upon  the  tempest  and  the  urge 
Of  unbound  passions,  and  within  the  verge 
Of  careful  potence  bade  them  furl,  expand, 
As  listed  him  ;  not  long  the  roar  unmanned 

Waited  when  death  gave  him  a  grave  too  deep 
For  hopes  that  Charlemagne  with  brief  breath 
fanned 
Into  a  sudden  flame  ;  on  toward  the  steep 
Sea  of  mad  conflict  bore 
The  undiscernings  sore  ; 
Sheer  lawlessness  erected  tower  and  keep 
Above  the    fields  where  blinded    slaveries 
weep, 


128  The  Old  World. 

And    puny    trembling    monarchs    drank    the 

breath 
Of  rule  empoisoned  with  the  smell  of  death  ; 
Pale  peace  fled   from  the  earth    save   where   her 

lovers  shun 
The  storm  within  the  church's  anthemed  orison. 


XXI. 


But  heaven  is  never  starless,  and  the  moon 
Lifts  up  her  silver  face  from  boding  cloud 
That  hides   but  ill   her   splendor  with  the 
shroud 
Of  storm  and  battle  ;  surer  comes  the  boon 
Of  high  self-conquest,  and  the  mystic  rune 

Of  freedom  won  from  mid  of  fear  and  hate 
Shines  clearer  on  men's  brows  ;  forth  late  or 
soon, 
And  rising  far  above  the  bitter  fate 
That  dominates  the  age 
Glooming  its  every  page, 
The  errant  knights  fare  forth  and  lie  in  wait 
To  force  vile  tyrannies  from  heights  elate  ; 
They   see   pure   Love   within   the   heaven  of 

thought, 
Fashioned  of  gentle   hopes,    with    dreamings 
wrought : 
Queen  of  the  life  and  hearts  that  worship  at  her 

shrine, 
She  lifts  her   eyes  and  guides   them   unto   deeds 
divine. 


The  Old  World.  129 

XXII. 

Again  the  awakened  East  had  risen  as  erst 
In    hours    forgotten,    and    the    conquering 

march 
Of  the  arms  Arabian  underneath  the  arch 
Of  many  a  sky  had  passed  ;  their  fervor  burst 
Their  native  deserts,  and  their  worship  nurst 

The  hope  of  bringing  back  unto  the  One, 
Whom  they  named  God,  the  peoples  now  im- 
merst 
In  giant  tasks  ;  but  vain  the  victory  won, 
And  vain  their  prophet's  call  ; 
Against  their  kingdoms  fall 
The  Westerners  who  scorn  their  toils  fore- 
done, 
And   beauty    risen    beneath    their   regnant 
sun  ; 
As  in  the  days  of  the  far  older  time 
The  Orient  reels  back  shattered,  and  the  clime 
Of  Europe  knows  them  but  as  sombre  scudding, 

rack 
That  winds  drive  from  before  the  light's  sky-cleav- 
ing track. 

XXIII. 

So  was  the  West  triumphant,  and  the  gold 

Of  growing  light  was  conqueror  of  the  storm 

Which    had   beset    its    dawn    with    gloom 

enorme  ; 
9 


130  The  Old  World. 

The  heaving  billows  of  the  conflict  rolled 
Soothed  by  the  splendor,  and  the  hunted  fold 

Of  night  unseasonable  fled  on  before  ; 
The  heart's  deep  visionings  became  more  bold 
And  turned  unto  the  sacred  land  which  bore 
Love  basely  filleted 
And  even  mocked  when  dead  ; 
Should  they  not  gain  the  tomb  ?  thus  more 

and  more 
The  life  of  man  as  one  began  to  soar 
Before  their  gazings,  and  the  memoried  East 
Awoke  new  purposes,  whose  flame  increased 
So  that  the  bitter  march  was  full  of  rich  avail 
And  truth  again  came  sweeping  down  the  orient 
gale. 

XXIV. 

Nor    does   high   wisdom    linger  ;    knowledge 
grows 
To  more  imperial  potence  and  the  soul 
Sees  heaven's  great  realms  above  it  float  and 
roll, 
Centering  in  the  pure  passion-glowing  rose 
Before  God's  throne  ;  whiter  than  sifted  snows 
Love  rules  one  heart  with  purpose  clearer 
far 
Than  old  Greece  thrilled  with,  and  his  rapt 
song  flows 
From  the  time's  depths,  more  silvern  than 
the  star 


The  Old  World.  131 

That  lights  the  violet  sky 
Before  the  dayspring's  eye 
Takes  to  itself  its  lucence  and  the  war 
With  night  hath  one  more  victory,  scimetar 
Made  for  the  ages'  hand,  and  fashioned  well 
Of  prayer  and  anguish  and  divinest  spell, 
Slaying  the  beast  within  the  man  and  hewing  way 
To  where  Beatrice's  eyes  are  pursuivants  of  day. 

xxv. 

As  in  the  flawless  stone  the  mighty  limbs 
And  sun-turned  face  disclose  from  day  to 

day 
Their  loosening  glory,  and  the  shadows  play 
Beneath  wide  eyes  wherein  the  joyous  hymns 
Of  wakening  life  lie  silent,  interims 

Of  loveliness  and  strength  to  hold  subdued 
Worship  forever,  being  imaged  thought  which 
swims 
Upon  the  sense  with  rapture  still  renewed, 
So  'mid  the  whelm  and  toss 
Of  aims  that  strive  and  cross 
The  Nation  rears  its  forehead,  and  imbued 
With  the  heart  to  vanquish  difference  and 
feud 
Reveals  a  power  superb,  that  is  to  set 
On  the  expectant  world  a  coronet 
And  sign  of  coming   peace,   and  Freedom  is  the 

name 
The  great  birth  bears,  though  vaguely  known  and 
sad  with  blame. 


132  The  Old  World. 

XXVI. 

Earth  grew  more  beautiful  and  human  life 
Swept  on  more  nobly  ;  the  dreams  of  seer 

and  saint 
Gave  way  to  joys  that  held  without  complaint 
Their  revelries  within  the  present  ;  strife 
Yet  roars  in  madness  where  the  hordes  are  rife 
Who    pour   from    mythic   Asia's    soundless 
deeps, 
And  thrust  anew  the  rude  barbaric  knife 
At  the  city's  throat  amid  which    learning 
weeps 

Because  of  evil  days  ; 
So  toward  the  western  ways 
Greece    once    more    bears   her   quenchless 

torch,  and  steeps 
In  goldener  light,  and  re-enthroned  keeps 
Her  inexhausted  regnance,  that  is  sure 
As  the  great  stars  above  and  must  endure, 
Being    part    of    truth    eternal    and    the    pauseless 

strength 
Which    shall   bring  all    mankind  into  its  calm  at 
length. 

XXVII. 

The  golden-belted  bees  that  hum  within 
The  honey-hearted  flowers  of  pleasure  fed 
The  soul  with  strange  delights,  and  sorcer- 
ous  led 


The  Old  World.  133 

Her   feet  on  poisonous  paths   of   passion  ; 

yet  to  win 
The  beauty,  which,  born  of  the  sun,  had  been 
The  young  world's  longing,  and  to  see  anew 
The  whole  of  life,  its  triumph,  love  and  sin, 
Statued  or  risen  in  towers  or  morned  to  view 
In  unsurpassable  splendor 
Of  colors  fierce  or  tender, 
Became  the  time's  desire  ;   then  soft  winds 

blew 
Fraught  with  a  lighter  perfume,  clearer  dew, 
From  long  unvisited  realms  of  Poesy  ; 
Birds  of  fresh  joys  sang  in  the  new-leaved  tree 
Of  living  disenthralled    from  gloom  of  prisoning 

dreams, 
And  man  walked  forth  beside  the  sky-reflecting 
streams. 

XXVIII. 

Heart  of  the  world  and  mystery  of  time, 
Eyesight   and   life  for   which   the   pageant 

moves, 
Freedom,  for   whose   fair   sake   adown  the 
grooves 
Of    ringing   change   from   heavy   slumberous 

prime 
Unto  thought's  latter   all-transpicuous  clime, 
The  toil  and  struggle  of  mankind  have  gone  ! 
Your  steps  have  been  amid  the  heat  and  rime 
Of  nature's  tumult,  and  the  haggard  wan 


134  The  Old  World. 

Despair  of  history, 
Lessening  in  slow  degree 
As  you  emerged  in  your  own  light  and  on 
The  hills  of  conquest  glittered  paragon  ! 
O  mirror  sending  back  to  heavenly  powers 
Their    imaged    loveliness   and    crowned    with 
flowers  ! 
O  unity  of  lands,  the  morning  of  your  day 
Flashes  across  the  verge,  and  holds  the  night  at  bay  ! 

XXIX. 

The  mountains  rose  benignant  and  the  sea 
Clung  to   its   shores  with  lingering  lover's 

lips  ; 
The    world    of    trees    and    blooms    sprang 
from  eclipse 
And  smiled  as  never  in  the  past  ;  to  be 
Thought's  painted  veil  and  the  glory  free 
Of  the  outer  where  the  soul's  high  hopes  are 
glassed 
Nature  avowed  her  part  in  life  ;  men  see, 
His  splendors  equally  around  him  cast, 
The  sun  uprisen  on  high, 
Centre  of  worlds  that  vie 
In  happy  worship  ;  they  knew  well  at  last 
The  need  of  firm  obedience  and  their  vast 
Divisions  sought  to  close  and  move  in  tune  ; 
The  night  with  blossom-stars  or  plenilune, 
The  day  with  flame  amidmost  of  the  curving  skies, 
Held  the  fair  earth  as  love  in  arms  of  lover  lies. 


The  Old  World.  135 

XXX. 

The  torch  of  thought  gleamed  on  the  caverned 
rocks, 
And  earth  made  bare  her  heart ;  no  smallest 

thing 
But  held  the  secret  wherewith  the  planets 
ring 
And  make  the  music  that  enfolds  and  locks 
The  universe  in  its  embrace  ;  the  mocks 
Of   elders,  eye-bound  with  dead  loves  and 
hopes, 
Fled  in  the  winds  of  search  like  colored  flocks 
Of  leaves  at  autumn-tide  ;  time's  horoscopes 
Were  prescient  of  resolve 
And  effort  that  revolve 
The  reborn  planet  ;  the  fetters  and  old  ropes 
Of  dim  opinion  fell,  weak  as  mere  tropes 
Of  sounding  sophistries,  when  the  urgent  hours 
Arouse  the  soul  of  man  with  all  its  powers, 
"When  the  voice  of  prophet  calls  the  wandering  feet 

and  brains 
Back  to  the  needed  toil  on  ever-harvested  plains. 

XXXI. 

One  deep  intention  ruled  the  restless  soul 
Of  all  the  period,  shook  it  with  vague  thrill 
Of  grand  success,  nerved  its  converging  will 
Unto  sheer  fearlessness,  and  held  the  whole 
White-heated  fervor  bound  unto  the  pole 


136  The  Old  World. 

Of  a  great  action  ;  star  that  rose  to  guide 
The  impetuous  firm  endeavor  to  the  goal 
For  which  the  unwearied  centuries  fleet  and 
ride 

The  tempest-peopled  sea 
Was  search  for  land  where  the  tree 
Of  Freedom  might  grow  surely  and  abide 
The   hour   whose    striking   had   been    long 
denied. 
Fixed  in  the  heart  of  men  and  impulse  strong 
Was  need  to  grasp  the  earth  and  to  prolong 
Their  nobler  life  about  its  curving  sides,  absorb 
Its  sphered  secret,  and  command  the  obedient  orb. 

XXXII. 

Then  Freedom  might  forever  build  its  home 
Upon  that  conquest,  and  the  very  stars 
Rising  from  out  the  infinite  dark  thrust  bars 
Away  from  their  best  knowing,  and  the  dome 
Of  heaven  hold  no  more  mystery,  and  to  roam 
From  light  to  light  of  gradual  truth  become 
The  joy  of  search,  feeling  on  its  brow  the  foam 
And  wind  of  thought's  great  ocean  where 
the  dumb 

Forth-reachings  of  the  past 
Fruition  find  at  last  ; 
One  orb  being  solved,  the  distant  maze  and 

hum 
Of  worlds  whose  multitudes  had  dared  to 
numb 


The  Old  World.  137 

The  earlier  gropings  rise  in  ordered  song, 
Repeating  the  one  story  ;  from  the  strong 
Desire  of  the  great  ages  leaps  divine  and  mild 
The  longed-for,  pure-eyed  goddess,  Fate's   Fate- 
slaying  child  ! 


xxxin. 

Also  the  truth  that  filled  the  restless  mind 
Of  the  rapt  seeker  found  a  dwelling  place 
Which  should  repel  time's  malice,  face  to 
face 
With  old  discoveries  bring  all  human  kind, 
Hold  wisest  memories  safe  and  unresigned 

From  regent  purpose,  cast  the  miracle  far 
Of  budding  knowledges  like  seed  confined 
In  fruitful  soil  breaking  in  bloom  as  star 
Is  clad  with  silver  light 
To  wage  war  on  the  night 
And   conquer,  burst  the  imprisoning  bond 

and  bar 
Of  glooms  that  sought  to  hold  the  soul  and 
mar, 
And  build  a  realm  where  men's  just  dreams 

might  tread 
And  know  their  strength  and  bliss  of  kingli- 

head  ; 
This   too  was   granted   them  ;    behold  in  hall   and 

nook 
Of  simpler  life,  yea  everywhere,  the  charmed  book  ! 


138  The  Old  World. 

XXXIV. 

Voyings  forth  to  the  east  and  wonder-tales 
Of  golden  monarchs  in  clime-favored  lands  ! 
The  western  ocean  writes  on  sparkling  sands 
Its  open  secret  ;  round  the  globed  earth  sails 
Wide  forethought  fearless  ;  all  the  eastern  gales 
Fraught  with  the  glow  of  story  waft  the  oars 
On  westward  paths  unto  the  rose-brimmed  vales 
Whither  quick  fancy  lifts  its  wings  and  soars  ; 
Upon  one  soul  more  high 
Than  the  ensphering  sky, 
One  heart  great  to  include  hope's  boundless 

shores, 
And  prophecy's  divinely  fashioned  lores, 
Rose  the  entrancing  vision  ;  presage  he 
Of  wonders  and  achievements  yet  to  be  ; 
Into  the  vasty  dark  his  ship  pursued  its  way, 
Secure  that  westward  was  the  spring  of  man's  bright 
day  ! 


II. 

THE    MAN. 

The  sun  set,  but  set  not  his  hope  ; 
Stars  rose  ;  his  faith  was  earlier  up  ; 
Fixed  on  the  enormous  galaxy, 
Deeper  and  older  seemed  his  eye  ; 
And  matched  his  sufferance  sublime 
The  taciturnity  of  time. 


-Emerson. 


139 


THE  MAN. 


WHO  knows  the  secret  of  the  sunrise  ?  who 
Shall  say  what  splendor  of  the  exhaust- 
less  sun 
Across  the  sombre  waiting  skies  shall  run  ? 
Who  knows  the  point  from  which  the  first  wind 

blew 
That  brought  the  hidden  sky  again  to  view  ? 

On  what  far  tip  of  Ocean's  many  waves 
Fell  the  first  moonbeam  ?  or  what  drop  of  dew 
Hid  first  amid  the  rose's  petals,  slaves 
To  the  sweet  dream  of  love 
Her  coming  forth  hath  wove  ? 
What  edge  of  storm  struck  first  the  trembling 

knaves 
Who  king  earth's  follies,  and  what  yawn  of 

graves 
Oped  first  to  enclose  them  from  the  lightning 

stroke 
Fallen  and  quivering  ?  or  what  first  ray  broke 
141 


142  The  Man. 

From  what  far  heavens  to  shine  within  the  hearts 

of  men 
And  bring  them   back  to  life  and  truth    and  joy 

again  ? 

ii. 

Surely  the  ages  climb  unto  the  Deed  ! 

Beneath  the  sod  the  slow  seed  bursts  and 

toils, 
The  laboring  spirit  laughs  at  vain  recoils 
On  its  intention  ;  still  the  patient  need 
Moulds  the  great  world  and  bids  arise,  exceed, 
The  light  that  darkling  lay  amid  dense  scorn  ; 
Denials  perish  of  its  right  to  lead 

To  spaces  where  its  glow  increased  to  morn 
Is  promise  of  the  day 
Having  the  word  to  say 
Which  leaves  old  crimes  disseated  and  for- 
lorn, 
While  faith  resurgent  in  the  just  is  born  ; 
As  the  earth's  rivers  flow  unto  the  sea, 
Time's  unseen  tides  unto  the  yet  to  be, 
So  might  and  things  and  life  speed  to  the  centre 

where 
The  new  achievement  leaps  forth  to  the  sun  and 
air. 


Deep  in  one  heart  the  fateful  future  bides, 
A  point  of  expectation  and  of  thought, 


The  Man.  143 

Which    have  this  frail    and    slender   vessel 
wrought 
For  their  enswathement  ;  his  the  dream  that 

rides 
Into  the  haven  where  its  storm-swept  sides 
May  wreathe  themselves  in  flowers  of   tri- 
umph won  ; 
Deep  in  his  soul  the  new  evangel  hides 

Toward  which  the  confluent  streams  of  hope 
have  run 

Since  light  was  on  the  sea 
Where  his  great  task  should  be  ; 
Upon  that  suffering  head  the  winds  and  sun 
May  beat,  whitening  his  locks,  and  the  un- 
done 
Intent  may  seem  like  failure,  and  his  eyes 
May  see  through  tears  morn  after  morn  arise, 
But  all  the  stars  of  heaven  and  the  sun's  swiftest 

fires 
Bring  on  the  hour  which  shall  respond  to  his  de- 
sires. 


IV. 


Italia  !  with  full  hands  you  have  ever  come 
Unto  the  feast  of  nations  ;  rise  once  more, 
Be  your  grand  self  that  all  men  may  adore  ; 

Your  cry  of  war  in  olden  days  struck  dumb 

The  dwellers  of  the  farthest  earth  ;  your  sum 
Of  glories  made  a  crown  for  your  fair  brow 

Which  was  the  light  of  law  and  masterdom 


144  The  Man. 

Burning  within  our  house  of  rule  even  now  ; 
Your  Church's  holy  flame 
Made  clear  the  sacred  name 
When   darkness  held  the  lands  ;  later  your 

vow 
Unto  high  beauty  led  you  to  endow 
The  joy  of  men  with  its  best  heritage 
Of  picture  and  of  marble  ;  and  your  rage 
Of  large  beneficence  would  not  have  wholly  won 
Its  height  of  giving,  had  you  urged  not  forth  your 


To  find  the  newer  world  far  in  the  west 

Toward  which  some  instinct  in  the  heart  of 

man 
Pointed  since  first  the  flow  of  time  began  ; 
The  brooding  boy  beside  your  waves  sat  blest 
In  a  large  dream  of  earth's  alluring  best, 
A  forefeel  of  the  way  his  ships  must  go, 
Borne  on  the  treacherous  subsidence  and  crest 
Into  the  light  that  later  eyes  should  know ; 
Within  him  burned  and  thrilled 
The  purposes  world-willed 
For  which  all  skies  are  globed  and  all  winds 

blow  ; 
Son  of  a  sailor-city  and  the  foe 
Of  whatso  night  hung  over  distant  seas 
And   hid  from    sight    uncaptived    lands    and 
leas. 


The  Matt.  145 

His  thought  surged  far  and  high  and  gazed  upon 

of  stars 
Virginal,   which   beaconed   him   from   forth    their 

speeding  cars. 

VI. 

What  the  great  halls  of  learning  told  his  soul 
Of  mystic  project  and  alert  command, 
The  golden  memories  of  sighted  land 
By  ancient  wanderers  on  the  toss  and  roll 
Of  half-forgotten  waves,  what  murmuring  stole 

Upon  him  of  the  vaguely-looming  fate 
That  was  to  be  his  anguish  and  his  goal, 
Found  in  him  the  resolve  whose  form  and 
date 

Are  not  the  fruit  of  time 
And  grow  within  a  clime 
Which  has  heaven's  smile  for  sky  ;  calmly 

he  sate 
And  what  was  kin  unto  that  mood  and  mate 
Came  to  his  hand  and  gave  its  message  up, 
As  one  drinks  wine  from  out  a  jewelled  cup, 
And  he  went  forth  strong  in  the  truth  and  firmly 

bent 
To  search  for  lore  of  the  far  realm  where'er  he  went. 

VII. 

The  sea  knew  well  her  master  ;  from  her  came 
A  voice  of  urgence  and  a  cry  that  stung 
His  heart  to  answer  and  about  him  clung 


146  The  Man. 

A  host  of  visionings  that  roused  to  flame 
His  sense  of  kingship  ;  his  the  hand  to  tame 

Her  wild  upleapings,  make  her  bear  the  yoke, 
And  fawn  about  the  keels  in  happy  shame 
That  into  her  close  western  secrets  broke  ; 
He  knew  her  scorn  and  smile 
And  fathomed  every  wile, 
Treading  in  joy  the  hollowed  pine  or  oak  ; 
The  astonished  sailors  felt  the  subtle  stroke 
Of  still  assurance  when  the  headland  rose 
Before  them  and  the  morning  brought  swift 
close 
To  the  mutinous  fury  facing  the  near  Afric  sand 
And.  impotent    to   make  him  seek  the  wished-for 
strand. 


VIII. 


He  held  the  wonder  in  his  heart  and  soon 
From  all  the  winds  came  confirmation  strong 
To  bear  his  swift  previsionings  along  ; 

He  followed  every  track  beneath  the  moon 

And  sought  from  south  to  north  whatever  rune 
Deciphered  showed  the  path  he  was  to  tread  ; 

Nor  any  region  might  refuse  the  boon 

Unto  his  asking  ;  forth  his  steps  were  led 
Unto  the  extreme  shore 
That  then  the  honor  wore 
Of  searchings  far  and  wide  into  the  dread 
And  awful  marvels  that  the  ocean  bred  ; 

And  knowledge  came  to  aid  him  and  her  speech 


The  Man.  147 

Pointed  unto  the  fruitage  in  his  reach  ; 
The  noble  Florentine,  the  traveller  of  the  skies, 
Like  a  new  planet  saw  the  new  West  glow  and  rise. 

IX. 

The  very  light  was  filled  with  fair  sea  tales 
As  if  the  sun  were  leagued  with   his  chief 

hope  ; 
A  luminous  mist  of  story  and  of  trope 
Swept  through  the  lands  and  girt  his  visioned 

sails 
With  the  exalting  bliss  that  never  fails. 

What  if  he  knew  not  half  the  magic  lore 
Which  came  down  wafted  on  the  freighted  gales 
From  the  dim  past,  yet  Plato's  vanished  shore 
And  the  stern  Roman's  dream 
Seen  in  the  stormless  stream 
Of  light  prophetic,  and  what  picture  more 
Shone  to  complete  the  world,  rejoiced  to  soar 
Into  the  heaven  of  his  musings,  cling 
To  his  enlinking  thought,  and  there  to  sing 
A  music  that  by  many  had  been  softly  heard 
And  iterant  in  refrain  the  East  and  West  averred. 


Mornwards  were  realms  of  fairy  ;  far  Cathay 
Drew  with  its  towers  and  singular  roofs  of 

gold, 
And  farther  towards  the  springs  of  light  the 

bold 


148  The  Man. 

Discoverer  saw  the  foam  that  starred  the  way 
To  great  Zipangu  ;  who  should  say  him  nay  ? 

In  Asia's  dimness  potent  Prester  John 
Ruled  still  (so  spoke  their  dreamings)  and  the 
day 
Of  rosy  lustre  had  not  fled  and  gone 
From  glorious  Kublai  Khan 
Whose  width  of  regnance  ran 
Unto  the  hither  sea  ;  his  thoughts  sped  on 
Across  the  sun-kissed  waves  and  dwelt  upon 
The  fortunes  of  the  lucky  brothers  twain 
AndRubruquisandmorewhosedeeds  werevain 
Because  the  hated  Turk  usurped  the  Orient ; 
Upon  the  western  skies  his  hopes  were  set  and  bent. 


XI. 


Scant  was  the  bread  he  won,  and  hard  the  toil 

Of  many  askings  ;  you  might  surely  deem 

The  country  would  not  unresponsive  seem 

That  bore  the  Prince  of  Seamen  and  whose 

spoil 
Of  treasures  won  with  strength  no  storm  could 
foil 
Called  his  work  hers  who  passed  the  haunted 
cape 
To  distant  Calicut ;  but  the  stern  coil 
Of  sharp  denial  gave  no  sure  escape 
From  its  coercive  prison  ; 
The  light  was  not  arisen 
Upon  his  weary  darkness  ;  many  an  ape 


The  Man.  149 

Of  dullard  greatness  would  yet  grin  and  gape 
Upon  the  calm  severity  that  held 
Its  course  unshaken,  patient,  and  unquelled, 
Scorning  the  Portuguese  device  which  basely  sought 
To   grasp  the  certain  prize  and  bring  his  life  to 
naught. 

XII. 

But  Love  looked  on  his  eager  step  and  brow 
And  sang  him  melodies  to  lull  and  cheer 
His  bitter  waiting  ;  children  blithe  and  dear 
Climbed  on  his  knee,  and  made  the  time  allow 
A  respite  from  the  deep  and  mastering  vow  ; 
Nobly  formed  was  he,  strong  and  large  of 
frame, 
The  potent  eye  clear  with  light  to  endow 
A  darkling  multitude  ;  the  furrows  came 
Full  early  and  the  face 
Revealed  across  its  space 
The  unresting  purpose  and  themindof  flame; 
A  vigorous  soul  that  saw  the  heights  of  fame, 
Being  part  of  large  intents  ;  and  if  at  last 
Love  in  another  guise  beside  him  passed, 
Be  sure  heaven  frowned  not  on  that  simple  paradise 
Nor  gazed  upon  it  with  stern,  unrelenting  eyes. 

XIII. 

Moreover  when  he  claimed  the  right  to  rule 
The  realms  he  found  and  portions  of  the 
store 


150  The  Man. 

Of  riches  they  gave  up,  what  did  he  more 
Than   emphasize    the  part   he  played  ?     The 

cool 
Winds  of  the  morning  sweeping  o'er  the  pool, 
That  seeks  to  hold  the  sunrise  on  its  breast, 
Capricious,  wayward,  yet  are  not  the  fool 
To  yield  one  atom  of  the  waters'  best 
Which  they  believe  is  theirs  ; 
No  flower  the  summer  bears 
But  calls  the  sun  his  own,  and  the  wide  west 
In  days  to  come  should  each  with  the   all 
invest  ; 
He  was  the  master  of  the  islands  far, 
He  was  the  late  and  slowly  rising  star, 
Beneath  which  burst  their  beauty  from  the  dark- 
ness' thrall, 
And  he  of  right  was  ruler  and  great  admiral. 


XIV. 


Forth  fared  he  from  the  land  that  knew  him 
not 
And    sought    the    region    of    brave-voiced 

romance, 
About  which  all  the  winged  seasons  dance 
In  lyric  joyance,  Spain,  whose  lofty  lot 
Was  to  conclude  the  conflict  unforgot  ; 

Again  the  sense-steeped  and  luxurious  creed 
That  rose  in  Asia,  bred  amid  her  hot 

And  desert  sands,  contended  with  the  need 
For  nobler  self-possession, 


The  Man.  151 

And  spirit's  free  confession 
Of  firm  allegiance  to  the  truth  whose  meed 
Is  to  obtain  the  will  and  strength  to  bleed 
For  those  who  toil  and  mourn  ;  great-hearted 

Spain, 
Fronting  the  expectant  and  sonorous  main, 
Had  the  keen  sight  to  pierce  the  mists  which  over- 
hung 
The  outer  ocean,  taught  by  the  unfearing  tongue 

xv. 

That  made  wide   Europe  hear   the   constant 
story  ; 
She  bent  at  first  a  sombre  deep  surprise 
Upon  the  whitened  hair  and  anxious  eyes  ; 
Her  sages  and  her  counsellors,  old  and  hoary,, 
Sat  gazing  from  their  wisdom's  promontory 

Steadfastly  seaward,  but  a  shadow  lay 
Upon  the  outlook's  still  invisible  glory, 

And  they  believed  not  in  the  nearing  day  ; 
But  there  were  those  who  felt 
The  mystery  that  dwelt 
In  his  firm  words,  the  prince,  of    amplest 

sway, 
Medina-Celi,  and,  keen  in  the  fray, 
The  third  king  of  the  realm,  Mendoza,  priest 
And  statesman,  with  the  Queen's  advisers,  least 
Inclined  to  marvels,  Santangel,  Quintanilla  strong, 
And  the  imperious  Marchioness  whose  life's  rich 
song 


152  The  Man. 


XVI. 


Answered  his  own  ;  but  now  the  Crescent  pale 
Shrank  behind  clouds  of  war,  and  the  pure 

Queen 
Held   victory  grasped  ;    at   Santa  Fe  were 
seen 
The  royal  armament  whose  stern  avail 
Shattered  the  Saracen  kingdom  and  saw  quail 

The  Oriental  life  before  the  sweep 
Of  nobleness  that  dwelt  behind  the  mail 
Of  lords  and  knights  ;  for  these  the  moving 
deep 

Held  regions  secret  yet 
But  where  their  bold  hopes  set 
Should  come  to  sight  in  forms  wherein  the 

leap 
Of  impulse  might  find  joyance  and  still  keep 
Friendship  with   law  that  fetters   and  makes 

free  ; 
For  these  ere  long  the  sun's  unloosened  sea 
Should  flow  round  Moorish  towers  wherefrom  burns 

forth  the  cross, 
Symbol  of  hope  and  love  that  grow  and  know  not 
loss. 

XVII. 

But  not  to  you,  O  Europe,  came  the  task 
To  build  the  commonweal  that  shall  endure 
And  brighten  ever  till  its  action  pure 


The  Man.  153 

Grows  even  as  time  itself  must  seek  and  ask  ; 
Men  knew  not  what  was  hidden  behind  the 
mask 
The  ages  wove  of  Pomp  and  Power,  strong 
Love, 
That  throws  from  off  its  brow  the  glittering 
casque, 
And   fills   the   world   with   the    clear    light 
thereof  ; 

They  built  the  narrow  cell 
Wherein  the  accents  fell 
Of  Judges  whom  no  mildness  of  the  dove 
Kept    from   the   serpent's   keenness  ;    forth 
they  drove 
The  patient  wisdom  of  a  people  sad 
With  the  unfinished  pain  their  drear  past  had, 
And  whom  the  New  World,  too,  should  free  from 

the  dark  doom 
Which  wove  around  them  centuries  of  grief  and 
gloom. 

XVIII. 

Thus   the  past    clutched  the   throat   of   wise, 
intent, 
And  murdered  Spain  when  her  hand  held 

the  keys 
To  unlock  the  future's  happier  mysteries  ; 
And  the  defeated  Moor  saw  once  more  bent 
The   nations  at  the  shrine  from  whence  are 
sent 


154  The  Man. 

Soul-slaying  vapors  and  a  shuddering  dread 
Of  lordly  deeds  for  which  all  time  is  meant. 
Gray  Europe  had  a  weary  path  to  tread 
Unto  that  far  seen  goal 
For  which  the  New  World  sole 
Waited,  and  whereunto  her  life  is  wed  ; 
O  bold  discoverer  high  among  the  dead, 
Or  those  whose  unsealed  eyes  behold  the  all, 
Great  Sailor  and  the  Future's  Admiral, 
You  see  what  land  you  found — not   Asia's  mere 

decay, 
But  the  Achievement's  best,  and  gold  of  the  New 
Day  ! 


XIX. 


Yet  had  his  sun  not  risen  ;  from  his  lips 
Fell  in  swift  fervid  accents  his  desire, 
And  Talavera's  eyes  of  smouldering  fire 
Shone  with  a  myriad  doubts,  a  dark  eclipse 
Of  faith  hung  round  him,  and  the  longed-for 
ships 
Ploughed    but    the    ocean    of    his    star-lit 
dreams  ; 
Time  had  not  tried  his  soul  enough  with  whips 
And  scorns,  for  so  the  rigid  Master  deems 
He  makes  his  servants  fit 
For  the  hard  toils  which  knit 
The    perfect    garment,    firm    and    without 
seams. 


The  Man.  155 

The  world  shall  wear  at  last  ;  his  hurt  brain 
teems 
With  indignation  and  he  turns  away- 
Undaunted,  and  he  girds  him  for  the  fray 
Once  more  ;  but  first  he  hears  the  words  of  his 

good  friend, 
Marchena,  strong  with  trust  in  the  far-shining  end. 


xx. 


His  wanderings  reached  at  last  the  lonely  door 
Of  calm  La  Rabida  ;  there  the  silence  came 
Grateful  upon  his  grief's  consuming  flame  ; 
The   simple    cloisters    gave   him   peace   once 

more 
And  the  live  ocean  rolled  up  to  the  shore 
Its  ceaseless  voice  of  promise  ;  through  the 
pines 
The  sun  looked  down  benignant,  and  the  roar 
Of  the  far  world  of  rivalries  declines 
Into  an  inward  murmur 
With  each  day  growing  firmer, 
Whose   sense   is   conquest   at   the    last  ;  as 

shines 
A  lamp  across  a  rocky  path's  confines 
Making  the  outlet  clear,  Juan  Perez'  faith 
Who  heard  him  and  conceived  his  words  no 
wraith 
Of  fevered  fancy  but  the  very  truth,  was  light 
To  bring  the  Queen  to  know  his  purposes  aright. 


156  The  Man. 

XXI. 

O  noble  priest  and  friend  !  you  reached  the 
court 
And  turned  the  Queen  from  conquest's  mid 

career 
To  hearken  ;  other  triumphs  glittered  clear 
Before  her,  and  again  from  Huelva's  port 
The  seeker  came  ;  he  saw  Granada's  fort 
Open  its  gates  reluctant,  and  the  king, 
El  Zogoibi,  bewail  his  bitter  sort 

And  loss  which  made  the  rich  TeDeums  ring 
When  on  La  Vela's  tower 
The  cross  bloomed  like  a  flower 
Of  heaven's  own  growing  ;  but  the  sudden 

spring, 
Loud  with  birds  silent  long  that  strove  to  sing, 
After  the  winter's  weary  voiceless  reign, 
Was  overcast  with  storms  of  cold  disdain  ; 
Haughtily  forth  he  fared  and  reached  Granada's 

gates 
When  the  clouds  lifted  and  the  persecuting  fates 

XXII. 

Relented  from  their  fury  ;  for  the  Queen 
Listened  unto  the  urgings  manifold 
Of  Santangel,  and  counsel,  wise  and  bold, 
Of  the  far-seeing  Marchioness,  whose  keen 
Divinings  pierced  the  misty  ocean's  screen 
And  felt  the  deed  must  surely  come  to  pass  ; 


The  Man.  157 

So  they  recalled  him,  and  his  life's  changed 
scene 
Grew  bright  with  blooms  and  smile  of  thick- 
ening grass  ; 

O  royal  woman  then 
Your  hand  received  again 
The  keys  of  a  great  realm  ;  in  the  clear  glass 
Of  actions  yet  to  be  whose  fires  amass 
Infinite  stores  of  impulse  toward  the  good, 
Your  image  permanent  lies  ;  forth  from  the 
wood 
Of  beasts  malicious  and  the  unrelenting  dread 
You  showed  the  way,  but  sought  not  from  the  gloom 
to  tread. 

XXIII. 

The  wind  was  fair,  the  ships  lay  in  the  bay, 
And  the  blue  sky  looked    down  upon  the 

earth  ; 
Prophetic  time  laughed  toward  the  nearing 
birth 
Of  the  strong  child  with  whom  should  come  a 

day 
That  dulled  all  earlier  hours.   Forth  on  the  way 

With  holy  blessings  said,  and  bellied  sails, 
And  mounting  joy  that  knows  not  let  nor  stay  ! 
Lo  !  the  undaunted  purpose  never  fails  ! 
O  patient  master,  seer, 
For  whom  the  far  is  near, 
The  vision  true,  and  the  mere  present  pales 


158  The  Man. 

Its  lustre, what  mild  seas  and  blossomed  vales 
Awaited  you  ?  haply  a  paradise 
But  not  the  one  which  drew  your  swerveless 
eyes  ; 
Could  you  have  known  what  lands  were  there  be- 
yond the  main, 
You  surelier  would  have  turned  to  gladsomeness 
from  pain. 

XXIV. 

Light-bearer  !  this  did  you  hope  indeed  to  be, 
Freeing  the  holy  tomb  from  dominance  base 
And  cleansing  earth's  bent  brow  from  dark 
disgrace  ; 
Waited  not  Prester  John  across  the  sea 
With  eager  sons  under  his  canopy 

Of  gold  and  on  his  emerald-studded  throne  ? 
Wealth    should    you    have    and    wide-spread 
empery 
To  bring  bowed  hearts  to  Truth  who  heard 
their  moan 

And  made  it  yours  to  lift 
The  heavy  clinging  drift 
From  their  sad  days,  the  many  hearts  who 

lone 
And  anguished  suffered  falsehood's  mono- 
tone ; 
Such  was  your  dream,  O  strong  deliverer  ! 
But  your  achievement  infinite-mightier 
Planted  the  tree  of  Freedom  in  its  foredoomed  soil 
And  wrested  from  old  111  the  remnant  of  his  spoil. 


The  Man.  159 

XXV. 

What  room  for  cold  detraction's  voice  ?     What 
gain 
In    finding    weakness   where    so    much   of 

strength 
Reached  the  far  end   it  sought  so  long  at 
length  ? 
Grant  that  his  soul  had  here  and  there  a  stain, 
The  splendor  of  his  deed  must  still  remain 
The    clear   avouchment    of   his   manhood's 
height  ; 
That  cannot  be  the  truth  which  would  constrain 
The   mind   to  dull    details  and   hold   from 
sight 

The  life  that  is  the  whole 
Vision  ;  the  mists  uproll 
From  the  wide  landscape  and  the  generous 

light 
Bathes  in  its  affluence  hill  and  stream  ;  the 

night 
Seeks  its  lair  far  beyond  the  glowing  earth  ; 
Here  is  the  joy  of  daring  and  of  worth  ; 
If  mists  cling  to  the  trees  or  thin  clouds  yet  ob- 
scure, 
We  ask  not  in    the  day's  impendence  white  and 
pure. 

XXVI. 

Two  worlds,  from  the  beginning  sundered,  flow 
Into  the  stream  that  is  the  planet's  life, 


160  The  Man. 

A   strength    showing   sweet   peace   brought 
forth  of  strife  ; 
The  giant  winds  upon  their  wanderings  go 
From  the  grim  lands  of  changeless  iron  snow 

Unto  the  climes  where  rules  the  centred  sun, 
And  everywhere  the  exulting  nations  know 
That  their  approaching  Destiny  is  one  ; 
This  hath  the  Sea-King  wrought 
Whose  forward  leaping  thought 
Felt  that  man's  victory  was  but  half  way 

done 
Unless  both  realms  were  intimately  won 
Unto  the  mighty  goodness  which  is  God 
And  Lord  of  History's  utmost  period  ; 
His  hand  conjoined  the  parted  continents  once  for 

all, 
He  looked  for  land  and  lo  !  a  nobler  spirit-fall ! 


III. 

THE  DEED. 

To  cross  the  seas  of  life,  naught  suffices  save  the  bark  of 
faith.  In  that  bark  the  undoubting  Columbus  set  sail,  and  at 
his  journey's  end  found  a  new  world.  Had  that  world  not 
then  existed,  God  would  have  created  it  in  the  solitude  of  the 
Atlantic,  if  to  no  other  end  than  to  reward  the  faith  and  con- 
stancy of  that  great  man. 

— Emilio  Castelar. 


161 


THE  DEED. 


T3  EACH  but  the  heights  of  truth  and  every 
-^     star 
Trembles  and  shines  for  aims  you  seek  and 

love  ; 
The  winds  become  the  pursuivants  thereof, 
Their  blare  triumphant  heralds  you  afar  ; 
No  danger  can  affright,  no  power  can  bar 
The    stern     endeavor    leagued    with    very 
thought, 
The  impassioned  hope  that  is  right's  avatar 
And  sees  its  substance  surely  wrought 
Into  the  web  of  time  ; 
He  breathes  the  superb  clime 
Of  certain  victory,  who,  borne  by  naught 
From  the  pursuit   his  loftiest   dreams  have 
sought, 
Follows  the  rocky  path,  however  steep, 
Which  lovers  of  mankind  perceive  and  keep  ; 
All  forces  of  the  land  and  sea  and  air  conspire 
To  bring  to  pass  what  feeds  eternity's  desire. 
163 


164  The  Deed. 

11. 

The  soft  acclaim  of  heaven  accompanies 
The  advent  of  the  hero  on  the  earth  ; 
Nothing  of  wonder  may  attest  his  worth 
Or  break  upon  and  shake  the  revelries 
Of  arrogant  pleasure  which  concludes  not  his 
To  ring  the   knell   of  what  it   holds   most 
dear  ; 
But  where  the  secret  place  of  potence  is, 
And  where  the  heart  of  life  beats  high  and 
clear, 

The  light's  intenser  glow 
And  joy's  superber  flow 
Betoken  triumph  'gainst  the  ancient  fear  ; 
The  night  is  sorely  stricken  and  her  drear 
Control  is  nearly  over  ;  every  stream 
Speeds  with  new  strength  in  the  sun's  strenuous 
stream, 
Defeat  beholds  with  dark  chagrin  how  all  his  skill 
Of  strange  undoing  served  to  work  the  sovereign 
will. 

III. 

Now  the  swift  hours  seemed  friendly  ;  every- 
where 
Smiled  portents  of  success  to  the  emprise 
Which  looked  for  sunrise  where  the  low  day 
dies 
Into  the  seas  incarnadine  ;  to  dare 
Was  certain  conquest ;  earth  was  all  aware 


The  Deed.  165 

Of  the  endeavor,  and  her  heart  was  thrilled 
With  mighty  impulse  that  her  son  should  fare 
Straight  to  the  doom  she  long  had  loved  and 
willed ; 

He  was  the  very  mid 
Of  the  intentions  hid 
Within  her  bosom  till  her  hands  had  spilled 
Enough  of  marvels  and  the  unfulfilled 
Desires    of    her    bold    manchild    sought   the 

realms 
Beyond  the  sea  with  courage-governed  helms 
Where  could  be  built  anew,  free  from  the  past's 

grim  wrong, 
A  home  the  soul  might  dwell  in,  life's  last  burst  of 
song. 


Now  the  winds  rose  from  out  the  storied  east, 
Freighted  with  all  the  perfumed  memories 
That  murmured  in  their  brains  like  happy 
bees 
Seeking  the  hives  wherein  the  store  increased 
Of  earth's  best  products  was  set  for  the  feast 
Whereby  all  men  recline  and  each  is  king  ; 
The  light  wind  freshened  while  the  monk  and 
priest 
Watched  from  his  height  the  vessels  vanish- 
ing ; 

The  sea  was  fair  as  youth, 
The  wind  was  firm  as  truth, 


1 66  The  Deed. 

The  cloven  waters  with  a  swish  and  swing 
Around  the  ship's  sides  seemed  to  close  and 
sing  ; 
The    known   shores    faded  and  the  speeding 

days 
Brought  them  unto  the  skyward-reaching  blaze 
Of  islanded  sheer  Teneriffe  that  pierced  the  night 
With  its  sharp  cone  and  thrilled  the  unaccustomed 
sight. 

v. 

Forth  into  unknown  seas  !  and  who  shall  say 
What  keel  clove  those  forgetful  waves  be- 
fore ? 
Had  the  dark-haired  and  slim  Phoenician's 
prore 
Seen  creaming  from  its  thrust  the  fitful  play 
Of  those  unraging  waters  ?  or  the  way 

Been  conscious  of  the  Greekish  mariner 
Whose  fancy  wantoned  in  the  golden  day 
Of  lost  Atlantis  ?  or  the  storm  and  stir 
Of  an  obscure  unrest 
Driven  a  king  from  blest 
And  firm-built  power  to  see  through  misted 

blur 
Strange  coasts  arise  and  many  an  islander  ? 
The  smoothly-slipping  rippled  element 
Seemed  false-benignant  in  its  calm  consent  ; 
What  vague  forebodings  held  their  inmost  hearts 

appalled 
When  sea  was  all  that  shone  upon  their  sight  en- 
thralled ? 


The  Deed.  167 


VI. 


The  sky  above  them  glittered  clear  and  pure, 
The  vast  horizons  scarcely  shut  them  in  ; 
Had  the  strange  path  an  end  ?  was  theirs  to 
win 
A  shore  beyond  that  solitude  ?     Secure 
In  the  far-stretching  distance  lay  the  lure 
Which    siren-wise    laughed    in  the   present 
calm  ? 
Or  did  the  silver  monotone  endure 

Until   its   splendor    ached,    and   the   fierce 
qualm 

Wrought  madness  in  the  brain  ? 
Farther  upon  the  plain 
Of  liquid  lucence  and  no  sign  of  balm 
Unto  the  growing  fear  and  lifted  palm  ; 
Held  the  same  law  in  the  same  certain  strength 
The  new  and   old  ?   or   was   change  here  at 
length  ? 
These  treacherous  waves  perchance  rolled  on  no 

human  shore, 
And  vaguely  westward  was  the  infinite's  opened 
door  ? 

VII. 

A  broken  mast   tossed   loose   from   wave   to 
wave  ! 
A  sign  from  the  as  yet  unfathomed  sea 
And  menace  to  their  rash  temerity  ! 
For  who  might  bind  her  as  a  willing  slave 
To  his  devisings  ?  was  she  not  one  grave, 


1 68  The  Deed. 

Pellucid,  fragrant,  lambent  everywhere, 
Covetous  of  life  and  impotent  to  save  ? 

But  the  quick  birds  were  fearless  and  the  air 
Upbore  their  flutterings, 
And  the  increasing  rings 
Of   their  large  flight  portended  something 

fair. 
Pelican,  tunny  fish,  aught  that  could  bear 
A  happy  presage  woke  a  fleeting  thrill 
Of  the  old  hope  which  dimmed  and  lessened 
still  ; 
What  might  survive  upon  the  stretching  lone  ex- 
panse 
Save  the  light   tribes    of   air,  and   fishes'   darting 
dance  ? 

VIII. 

But  lo  !  the  sea  became  a  tangled  mass, 
A  floating  meadow  of  unnameable  weeds, 
A  sterile  growth  answering  no  man's  needs, 
A  demon-fashioned  obstacle  to  pass, 
A  moving  desert  covered  with  strange  grass, 

Another  horror  which  the  water  spawns, 
That  aggregate  of  drops  more  clear  than  glass, 
But  hiding  in  its  clearness  fifty  dawns 
Of  ominous  miracle, 
An  ever  variant  spell 
Which  while  it  brings  to  sight  its  wrecks,  yet 

fawns 
Upon    its    victims  ;    through    the    yielding 
lawns. 


The  Deed.  169 

Starred  with  red  berries  like  dull  spots  of  fire, 
That  were  the  signs  of  its  condign  desire, 
They  cut  their  way  at  last,  but  now  the  winds  were 

still  ; 
What  next  ?  when  would  the  sea's  wild  fancy  have 
its  will  ? 


IX. 

Drifting  slowly  unto  their  doom  ;  the  glow 
Of  the  smooth  waters  to  the  silent  right, 
Leftwards  the  shine  of  the  unvarying  light, 
Into  the  very  void  they  seemed  to  go  ; 
No  hand  with  land  these  wastes  had  laughed 
to  sow  ; 
There  was  around  them  a  crystalline  peace, 
That  grew  more  weird  than  night  when  storm- 
winds  blow  ; 
They  might  turn  backwards  and  thus  gain 
release, 

But  who  could  surely  feel 
That  the  reversed  keel 
Might  not  find  gulfs  where  even  time  would 

cease  ? 
At  night  the  burnished  stars  with  soft  in- 
crease 
Of  flame  made  the  far  reaches  visible  ; 
They  were  a-fioat  within  a  widening  dell 
Of  death's  sheer  imminence  ;    even    as    a  flaw  is 

found 
Dimming  and  shadowy  inside  a  diamond's  round. 


I/O  The  Deed. 

x. 

Wherefore   had    shone   the   baleful    light   on 

high  ? 

The  meteor  that  fell  from  its  steep  place 

And  hissing  met  the  sea's  uplifted  space  ? 

Were  the  stars    fixed  in   yonder  high-domed 

sky? 
And  whence  did  the  unchanging  breezes  fly  ? 
Hard   sailing   in  the  teeth    of  winds  ;   and 
Spain, 
Fair  land  of  memories,  both  arm  and  eye 
Of  Europe,  like  a  dream  at  morn  that  vain 
And  fragile  passed  and  sped, 
Or  soul  mixed  with  the  dead 
And  mounting  upward  to    unfleeting    gain, 
Would  hardly  greet  them  more  beyond  the 
plain 
Of  sinuous  waves  into  whose  spell  they  swept  ; 
Here  all  was  other  ;  not  even  the  needle  kept 
Her  truth  in  the  mad  realms  ;  yet  better  to  be  lost 
On  the  track  homewards  then  on  this  grim  sin  be 
tost. 

XI. 

But   the    Commander   swerved  not  from    his 
trust, 
His  prayers  were  answered  while  he  uttered 

them, 
His  eyes  were  fixed  beyond  the  sunset's 
hem, 
And  the  fates  surely  could  not  be  unjust ; 


The  Deed.  171 

His  thoughts  were  truth  itself,  and  so  there 
must 
Rise  from  the  deeps  an  answer  clear  and 
meet  ; 
He  calmed  the  sailors'  dreads  and  often  thrust 
Their  glooms  aside  with  foregleams  of  the 
feat 

Which  all  time  should  record 
Their  braveries'  fit  award  ; 
His  skill  pictured  for  them  the  town  and 

street 
Wherethrough  the  Khan's  life,   fierce  and 
golden,  beat  ; 
What  fear  of  fire  stones  falling  from  above  ? 
He  knew  them  well  ;  besides  the  tomb  of  Love 
Who  died  for  men  must  needs  have  freeing  ;  Holy 

Writ 
Sanctioned  their  distant  search  and  prophesied  of 
it. 

XII. 

Yet  the  fierce  anguish  of  the  homeless  waste 
Grew  stronger,  and  they  rose  in   scorn  and 

hate 
Against  their  chief,  whose  madness,  soon  or 
late, 
Must  bring  the  doom  which  they  so  long  had 

faced 
Half  helplessly;  they  would,  no  more  disgraced 
And  shamedly  hearkening  his    obscure  be- 
hests. 


172  The  Deed. 

Feel  their  firm  wits  by  his  crazed  dreams  dis- 
placed, 
Nor  seek  these  wests  eked  out  by  farther 
wests  ; 

And  if  death  came,  alack  ! 
It  should  be  on  the  track 
Homewards  ;  let  him  go  forth  on  dangerous 

quests 
With  those  unweeting  that  his  interests 
Were  not  the  heaven's,  but  intense  search  for 

gold 
Of  which  low-breathed  secrets  had  been  told 
Into  his  ear  by  lying  pilots  who  had  been 
But  a  short  way  upon  the  ocean's  swirl  and  sin. 


XIII. 


The  Admiral  heard  their  loud  complaints  and 
called 
Unto  the  ships  accompanying  his  ; 
In  solemn  council  all  their  miseries 
Were  spoken  and  the  demon  deep  unwalled 
Tossed  round  them  ;  then  the  Pinzon   unap- 
palled 
Voiced  the  great  need  from  off  the  swaying 
deck 
And  for  a  brief  time  held  them  disenthralled, 
Obedient  to  their  Master's  word  and  beck  ; 
"  Senor,  some  two  or  three 
Of  these  might  feed  the  sea  ; 
And  if  the  hangman's  office  seem  a  fleck 


The  Deed.  173 

Upon   you  which  you  love  not,   they  shall 
reck 
Not  long  of  mere  delay  ;  my  brother  here 
And  I  will  bear  down  on  them  swiftly,  cheer 
Their  dark    despair,    and    land    them    in   another 

world  ! 
The  flag  we  bear  is  but  above  success  unfurled  !  " 


XIV. 


They  cowered  abashed  and  the  touched  Ad- 
miral said  : 
"  A  few  days  more  we  will  our  course  pursue 
And  the  near  hour  will  give    the   land  to 
view  ; 
Such  do  I  deem  the  present  likelihead  ; 
But  if  these  last  few  hours  are  fully  sped 

And  only  sky  and  water  greet  us,  I 
Will  change  the  sailing  by  your  longings  led." 
Then  Pinzon  once  more  raised  his  voice  and 
high 

Above  the  wind  and  wave 
Sounded  the  message  brave  : 
"  Forward  !  Forward  !  Forward  !  "  a  clarion 
cry 
Circling  around  between  the  sea  and  sky. 
Whatever  deeds  darkened  your  latter  days, 
That  courage  lifts  you,  Pinzon,  past  all  praise  ; 
Your  haughty  spirit  gave  its  fire  when  needed  most, 
And  to  those  dauntless  words  reached  .forth  the 
enamored  coast  ! 


174  The  Deed. 

xv. 

And  later  came  the  cry  of  land — perchance 
Because  we  often  see  the  thing  we  long 
To  see — and  the  wan  Admiral  raised  the 
song 
Gloria  in  Excelsis — and  his  glance 
Wandered  afar  where  the  lit  ripples  dance  ; 
Lo  !  there  it  lay,  purple  and  dim,  a  cloud 
Hardening  to  shore  with   the  full-sailed  ad- 
vance ; 
So   they    all   hoped   with    their   pale    faces 
bowed 

And  eyes  straining  and  fierce 
Into  the  depths  to  pierce  ; 
Continent  was  it  ?  or  a  thick-set  crowd 
Of  islands  ?  the  close  flight  of  birds  avowed 
The  nearing  rest  and  harbor — thick  they  came,. 
Fluttered  and  chattered  without  let  or  blame  ; 
Alack  !  the  land  sank  back  into  the  abysses  there  ; 
The  sighing  waves  beneath  and  round  them  nought 
but  air  ! 


Even  the  great  heart  faltered  and  at  night 
He  sat  upon  the  deck  and  felt  the  gloom 
Falling  around  him  like  a  mighty  doom  ; 
The  faint  glow  on  the  waters  left  and  right 
Hurt  his  tense  mood  and  something  shut  his 
sight, 
And  whether  sleep  or  waking  he  knew  not, 


The  Deed.  175 

Or  whether  it  was  dark  or  full  of  light, 
Or  whether  earth  or  other  holier  spot  ; 
But  a  voice  softly  spake 
Nor  did  the  silence  break  : 
"  Have  I  not  led  you  ?  have  you  too  forgot 
How  from  your  childhood  I  have  made  your 
lot 
Mine  own,  and  filled  your  life  with  me,  and 

gave 
You  toils  I  needed  in  my  toils  to  save 
Man  from  himself  ?    And  do  you  doubt  and  trem- 
ble now  ? 
Nay,  fear  not !  Lo  !  my  certain  morning  girds  your 
brow  !  " 

XVII. 

He  woke  as  one  who  might  return  from  death 
Unto  the  scenes  he  knew  beneath  the  sun 
And  to  far  heights  his  thoughts  began  to 
run  ; 
His  dreams  flew  past  the  bounds  where  tar- 

rieth 
The  mind  of  men,  and  over  him  the  breath 

Of  the  Terrestrial  Paradise  sped  soft, 
And  he  heard  waking  what  the  sweet  mouth 
saith 
Of  the  pure  Mother  who  sits  throned  aloft 
And  crowned  by  her  own  Son  ; 
Her  radiant  smile  had  won 
His  heart  to  deep  allegiance  and  had  oft 


176  The  Deed. 

Shone  on    his    darkness    and   his   soul  had 
doffed 
Its  sadness  ;  he  could  wait  for  many  a  morn 
With   this  clear  vision  ;  sometimes  when  the 
scorn 
Seemed  far  too  much  to  bear,  he  had  heard  mur- 
murs beat 
Within  him,  and  he  would  the  mystic  tones  repeat 


Even  as  did  the  thunderous  ones  of  old 

Who  spoke  what  heaven  itself  poured  through 

their  lips, 
Striving  to  ward  their  country's  near  eclipse  ; 
Ah,  if  the  obscure  Future  had  unrolled 
The  stately  pageant  which  she  held  in  fold 
Of  dimness,  how  his   full  heart  must  have 
leapt 
Unto  the  Hesperian  Freedom's  morning  gold  ; 
He  would  have  known  that  his  straight  voy- 
age kept 

The  road  to  Paradise 
Indeed,  which  earthly  eyes 
Should  see,  and  the  salt  tears  which  time 

had  wept 
Must  feel  assuaged,  for  the  Republic  slept 
Her  ante-natal  slumber  and  light  fell 
Beneath  her  trembling  eyelids,  her  All's  well ! 
Would  ring  above  the  expectant  lands,  and  the  last 

birth 
Of  national  powers  arise  in  stature  of  her  worth. 


The  Deed.  177 

XIX. 

Perhaps  some  forefeel  of  his  latter  days 
Came  over  him,  Fonseca's  tireless  hate, 
And  all  the  ills  that  oft  on  greatness  wait, 
And  hardships  of  triumphant  rugged  ways  ; 
And  further  on  the  world-wide  lamping  blaze 
Of  gratitude  which  circled  his  bright  name  ; 
His  last  doubts  vanished  and  his  gaze 

Swept  the  wide  ocean  ;  he  could  bear  the 
blame 

Of  the  dull  halting  men, 
Who  would  withhold  again 
The  world  from  its  advancement,  and  their 

shame 
Should  be  his  answer  when  the  victory  came  ; 
He  had  not  failed  to  hear  when  his  thought 

spoke, 
He  had  not  failed  to  read  what  message  broke 
Upon  him  when  the  outer  life  was  quieted 
And  his  deep  heart  and  deeper  truth  were  inly  wed. 

xx. 

Was  that  a  new  star  in  the  purple  West  ? 

Golden  and  nickering,  quenched  and  full  of 
fire, 

Like  an  uncertain  strengthening  desire  ? 
It  glows  above  the  uttermost  dark  crest 
Of  waters  ;  O  mysterious  palimpsest 

Of  the  round  skies,  will  you  not  utter  clear 
The  secret  you  have  shrouded  terriblest 


/ 


178  The  Deed. 

Amid  the  weltering  ocean's  vast  and  fear  ? 
Is  yonder  flame  the  key 
Unto  the  mystery  ? 
The  last  word  in  the  message  darkling  here 
Which  fills  the  meaning  out,  repaying  drear 
And  dim-eyed  watching  and  grim  anguishing 
Of  the  tense  soul  that  now  may  rise  and  sing 
Its  rich-voiced  paean  and  the  heart  awake  once  more 
Into  the  joy  of  life  from  over-cloudings  sore  ? 

XXI. 

Is  it  a  star  ?  its  lambent  tremulousness 
Melts  in  the  dark  around  it  !  now  it  pales 
And  its  soft  lustre  droops  and  faints  and 
fails  ; 
It  breaks  anew  !  it  comes  like  a  caress 
From  regions  of  divinest  blessedness  ! 

"  Pedro  Gutierrez,  turn  your  sight  afar  ! 
What  is  yon  shining  of  the  floating  tress  ? " 
"  I  mark  the  pale  far  radiance  of  a  star  ! " 
"  Oh,  look  again,  again, 

Btkhe  next  of  men  ! 
Rodrigo  o^Segovia,  past  the  bar 
Of  many  waves  see  you  what  flashings  are  ?  " 
"  Nay,  good  your  grace,  I  see  naught  but  the 

dark  !  " 
Forth  leaps  to  leeward  the  adventurous  bark  ! 
Lo  !   there  !     It  shines  again  !     Master,  it    grows 

more  bright  ! 
All  men  upon  your  knees  !     It  is  a  light  ! — a  light  ! 


IV. 
THE  NEW  WORLD. 

Come  thou  whole  self  of  Latter  Man  ! 
Come  o'er  thy  realm  of  Good-and-Ill, 

And  do,  thou  Self  that  sayest,  I  can, 
And  love,  thou  Self  that  sayest,  1  will ; 

And  prove  and  know  Time's  worst  and  best, 
Thou  tall  young  Adam  of  the  West ! 

— Lanier. 


179 


THE   NEW  WORLD. 


EASTWARD  the  dawn  and  to  the  west  lay 
land; 
Oh  not  Cathay,  but  a  more  virgin  soil, 
And  waiting  for  the  newer  faith  and  toil, 
Responsive  to  a  more  august  command  ; 
Nor  here  where  breezes  blew  serene  and  bland 
And   the   warm   sun  enlarged    from  labors 
rude, 
Upon  this  river-fed  and  fruitful  strand 

Where  nothing  harsh  or  stern  dared  to  in- 
trude, 

Was  the  fair  dome  to  rise, 
But  under  cloudier  skies, 
In  which  the  nobler  reach  and  larger  mood 
Should  find  themselves  drawn  on  and  subtly 
wooed 
To  make  their  dwelling  with  the  whole  of  man, 
Moulded  unto  the  dream  wherein  began 
The  passion  of  his  life,  for  from  no  lesser  source 
Plowed  the   wide  stream  of   hope  and  urged  its 
deepening  course. 
1S1 


1 82  The  New  World. 

ii. 
Once  more  a  portent  shone  in  Germany  ; 
For  there  the  Great  Reformer  rose  and  stood 
Firm-poised  and  strong  against  a  very  wood 
Of  opposition  ;  no  more  should  there  be 
A  wall  betwixt  the  soul  and  verity  ; 

In  the  wide  spiritual  realms  there  was  no  king 
Save  God  ;  life  had  not  striven  to  make  men 
free 
Through  the  long  years  but  to  lose  all  and 
bring 

Again  the  servitude 
To  a  power  once  imbued 
With  the  pure  love  wherewith  the  seasons 

sing, 
But  now  athirst  for  rule,  and  carrying 
Base  pomp  into  the  sanctuary's  mid  ; 
He  could  no  other  do  than  he  was  bid 
By  the  deep  voice  within,  and  Spirit's  rich  domain, 
Seen  by  the  eye  of  faith,  lay  clear  revealed  and  plain. 

in. 
Also  the  soul  confronted  in  its  might 

The  shows  of  all  the  world,  and  dared  to  say 

That  there  was  naught  beneath  the  eye  of  day 
Which  fell  not  in  its  province,  and  its  right 
To  judge  what  truth  was  came  not  from  the 
light 

Flickering  alone  in  cloisters  ;  every  man 
Stood  in  the  hall  of  Good,  and  his  own  sight 

Read  the  true  message  that  on  high  began  ; 


The  New  World.  183 

The  young  strong  cities  rose, 
And  yet  another  close 
Of  music  through  the  deepening  chorus  ran, 
And  peaceful  toil  pressed  forward  in  the  van  ; 
The  castles  frowned  upon  their  rough  hill  sides, 
And  the  hurt  villein  looked  upon  the  rides 
Of  glittering  lords  and  ladies  with  a  half  despair, 
Then  left  the  plough  and  sought  the  city's  freer  air. 

IV. 

Through  the  rapt  ages  sped  the  dream  and  grew 
More  certain  with  the  pregnant  flight  of  time 
And  held  the  seasons  in  a  richer  rhyme  ; 

From  every  star  that  shone  and  wind  that  blew 

The  intelligence  came,  and  all  men  surely  knew 
That  the  deep  self  was  height  and  lucid  peak 

From  whence  the  landscape  took  proportion 

due, 
And  justice  was  the  good  they  were  to  seek  ; 
Mere  trust  in  rule  was  dead, 
And  it  had  basely  led 
Into  the  gardens  withered  now  and  bleak 
Wherein  too  long  mad  kings  had  joyed  to 
wreak 
Their  wanton  fancies  and  their  wild  caprice 
On  men  whose  hands  had  given  long  life  and 

To  crime  and  shamelessness  ;  the  flame-lit  end  was 

here  ; 
Each  man  decreed  himself,  and  sovereigned  all  the 

sphere. 


1 84  The  New  World. 


The  thunder  rolled  above  impetuous  France, 
The  earth  shook  in  the  storm,  and  savage 

cries 
Of  the  roused  nations  answered  to  the  skies  ; 
The  thrones  of  Europe  trembled,  and  the  lance 
Of  Freedom  clove  the  darkness  with  the  glance 

Of  its  divine  illumination,  yet 
Too  fierce  and  strenuous  was  the  grim  advance, 
And  by  too  many  foes  self-made  beset  ; 
So  Victory  spurned  the  earth 
As  of  too  little  worth 
For  her  long  dwelling  ;  and  the  ground  was 

wet 
With  curdling    dews  the  ways  would   fain 
forget  ; 
The  scornful  sun   looked  down   in  pain  and 

wrath 
On  lands  that  trod  the  new-old  hateful  path  ; 
A  sigh  came  from  the  seas,  and  everywhere  was 

heard 
The  cry,  "  How  long,  O  Freedom,  is  your  reign 
deferred  !  " 

VI. 

O  sunset  land  !  to  you  the  days  have  given 
The  noblest  labor,  the  severest  meed, 
The  Consummation  and  the  Mighty  Deed  ! 
You  shall  from  all  cast  off  the  manacles  riven 
In  the  sad  past,  and  time's  old  sorrows  driven 


The  New  World.  185 

Before  like  leaves  upon  the  autumn  blast, 
And  memories  of  crimes  and  wrongs  unshriven, 
In  the  fierce  light  that  your  clear  eyes  will 
cast, 

Must  seek  the  open  grave 
From  which  no  later  wave 
Of  shame  or  folly  can  revive  them  ;  fast 
Shall  they  lie  there  until  a  springtime  vast 
Sweeps  over  them  and  makes  them  part  of  life 
That  has  arisen  full-sinewed  from  the  strife, 
Your  surging  life,  O  Mother,  triumph-voiced  and 

great, 
Shaper  of  man's  firm  welfare,  Builder  of  the  State  ! 


What  have  you  not  that  kisses  of  the  sun 
Delight  to  fondle  ?  waters,  large  and  fair, 
And  golden  regions  of  the  variant  air  ; 
Both  oceans  find  their  daily  loves  undone 
Unless  their  songs  within  your  ears  are  spun  ; 
Your  mountains  soar  above  you,  calm  and 
tall, 
And  lure  until  their  silences  have  won 

Your  hearts  to  spiritual  heights  which  hold 
and  thrall  ; 

Your  prairies  like  a  bride 
Laugh  to  the  blue  skies  wide 
With  their  abundance  ;  no  fate  can  befall 
You  save  the  further  rich  behest  and  call 
Of  wisdomed  bringing  what  you  have  in  fee 


1 86  The  New  World. 

Unto  all  lands,  mild  peace  and  liberty, 
And  nobler  beauty,  purer  song,  and  juster  sight 
Of  the  deep  secrets  hid  within  the  Infinite  Light  ! 

VIII. 

O  stern-browed  Heroine  far  across  the  sea, 
Your  daughter  knows  your  blood  within  her 

veins, 
And  hearkens  to  the  ever-ringing  strains 
Your  voice  has  poured  to  honor  Liberty  ; 
Her  have  you  worshipped  and  you  still  must 
be 
Helper  and  guide  upon  the  luminous  way  ; 
What  you  have  done  to  make  the  nations  free, 
Believing  ever  in  the  sun-filled  day 
That  shall  pervade  at  length 
Mankind  in  all  its  strength, 
Named  you  among  those  chief  round  whom 

the  play 
Of  forces  bringing  triumph  shed  the  ray 
Of  the  result  divine  ;  we  feel  you  here 
Within  us,  and  the  hour  cannot  appear, 
O  England,  which  will  not  turn  youwards  and  re- 
peat 
How  your  grand  life's  stream  flows  within  us  pure 
and  sweet. 


The  secret  found  at  last  !  obedience 
To  nothing  alien  but  the  very  God 


The  New  World.  187 

Fluent  throughout  the  majestic  period  ; 
The  soul  of  man  and  life  one  stream  whose 

whence 
Is  in  the  light  of  Good's  pre-eminence  ; 

The  heart  of  each  co-equal  with  the  whole 
That  through  it  flows  in  joyous  turbulence  ; 
The  soul  of  man  one  self-divided  soul, 
Whose  parts  innumerous  are 
Conjoined  as  light  to  star, 
A  star  whose  beams  around  it  speed  and  roll, 
Each  beam  all  light  and  true  as  steel  to  pole 
Unto  its  source  of  pure  yet  mixed  flame, 
Each  beam  all  light  reflected  to  the  same 
Glory  and  fervor  whence  its  dreams  have  ever  been, 
And  fleeting  back  from  being's  utmost  verge  and 
sin  ! 


O  heart  of  time  and  secret  of  the  world 
Revealed  at  last  beneath  the  happy  sun, 
O  wide-branched  blossom  of  the  ages  won 
Into  vast  growth,  since  the  first  dew  lay  pearled 
Upon  the  first  leaf  to  the  light  uncurled, 

Since  sense  of  spiritual  search  was  anywhere, 
You  have  gleamed  forth,  and  ray  by  ray  un- 
furled 
Your  crescent  shining  to  the  ambient  air  ; 
Now  we  behold  you  sure, 
The  spirit  and  the  lure 
Of  all  endeavor,  not  a  mere  nation  fair, 


1 88  The  New  World. 

Not  one  bright   flower,  but,  clustered  rich 
and  rare, 
A  flower  of  flowers,  a  petalled  sisterhood, 
The  torch-like  centre  of  the  heavy  wood 
Of  history,  giving  light  upon  the  living  past 
And  chiefest    glow  on  upward-leading    pathways 
cast  ! 


XI. 


In  days  of  Greece  whose  eyes  prophetic  saw 
The  spiritual  sphere  disclosed,  and  whose 

life  rose 
With  youthful  ardor  past  the  wizard  shows 
Of  sense  into  that  region  of  clear  awe, 
A  multifloral  state  which  drank  the  law 

Of  one  strong  stem  half  stayed  the  night 
that  fell 
Too  soon,  and  charmed  the  savage  winds  from 
flaw, 
Nearing  its  burst,  to  silence  ;  but  too  well 
For  the  rathe  hour  was  planned 
The  interlinked  command  ; 
Also  the  mountaineers  who  feel  the  spell 
Of  their  wild  land's  enchanting  miracle 
Have  woven  a  light  of  rule  whose  distinct  hues 
Conjoined  have  been  a  beacon  to  diffuse 
A  hope  among  the  watchers  that  the  delaying  morn 
Would  surely  come  when  the  Republic  should  be 
born. 


The  New  World.  189 

XII. 

Now  the  Republic  has  indeed  beheld 

The  vapors  vanish  from  the  western  seas, 
And  day's  young  magic  flash  across  the  leas 
Which  the  wrapt  fancy  of  the  climes  of  eld 
Longed  for  and  prayed  ;  those  tense  desires 
unquelled 
By  disappointment,  merciless  defeat, 
Have  sprung  from  every  overthrow  to  weld 
Anew  the  dream  for  which  their  passion  beat ; 
Of  the  Discoverer's  heart 
Those  purposes  had  part, 
And  led  him  forth  with  inexhausted  heat 
To   make  strong  Europe's  hope   the    New 
World's  feat  ; 
What  the  worn  past  has  been  anhungered  for, 
Holding  all  action  its  sure  servitor, 
The  form  of  rule  to  whose  large  beauty  men  must 

kneel 
Appears,  a  State  of  States,  the  Nationed  Common- 
weal ! 

XIII. 

Not  tower  but  city  crowned  is  your  grand  brow, 
Your    limbs  prodigious  in   the    strength  of 

youth, 
And  in  your  eyes  the  awfulness  of  truth, 
Not  mail-clad,  bringerof  the  olive-bough, 
Holy  and  tender,  with  lips  sweet  from  vow 


190  The  New  World. 

Of  help  to  all  men  in  all  continents, 
And  gracious  hands  of  blessing  to  endow 
With  life  the  hopes  to  which  all  time  con- 
sents ; 

The  thunder  of  the  mirth 
Of  the  awakening  earth 
Hailed  you  from  mountains  with  their  snowy 

tents, 

And   utmost   shores    the    scarce-sailed    sea 

indents  ; 

At  night  the  passion  of  the  stars  looked  down 

And  laughed  to  see  you,  and  the  sombre  frown 

That  gloomed  the  past-rid  lands  faded  in  joy  which 

came 
From    you,  O    mightiest-thewed,    and    source    of 
spiritual  flame  ! 

XIV. 

Yet  was  the  struggle  hard  ;  not  a  mere  gift 
Is  the  great  strength  which  leads  to  master- 

dom  ; 
Wisdom  and  just  assurance  only  come 
With  victory  over  sordid  ills  that  drift 
Around  us,  and  the  courages  that  lift 

Into  the  high  are  their  own  best  reward. 
The  agonies  were  hers  which  burn  and  sift, 
And  her  blind  powers  sometimes  held  vain 
accord 

With  those  whose  scornful  boast 
Was  that  they  harmed  her  most  ; 


The  New  World.  191 

Around  her  beat  the  many-headed  horde 
Of   envy,  malice,  hatred,  and  self-scored 
She  lay  with  bleeding  wounds  ;    the  battle's 

rage 
But  made  her  firmer,  and  the  dearer  wage 
Of  nobler  reverence,  self-control,  and  sight  of  good, 
Was  hers  as  she  emerged  from  that  dense  earlier 
wood. 


xv. 


One  stain  remained  upon  her  brow,  the  mark 
Of  sin  against  the  soul  of  brotherhood  ; 
She  who  was  Freedom's,  what  fate  abject 
could 
Ally  her  with  the  baser  crew  whose  dark 
Control  plucked  selfhood  from   the  crouched 
and  stark 
Corrupted  ones,  debased  from  man  to  thing, 
And  wreaking  on  their  sterile  brains  the  cark 
And  care  which  are  the  signs  of  travailing 
With  birth  of  loftier  will  ? 
Yet  the  hour  came  to  spill 
Upon  the  ground  her  life-blood  and  to  bring 
Her  dearest  to  the  altar  that  the  spring 
Might  be  spring  unto  all ;  with  forehead  bare, 
Washed  clean  of  the  defilement,  miracle-fair  ; 
She  stands,  the  shadow  in  her  eyes  of  anguish  fled, 
Strengthened  and  conscious  of  herself,  her  hopes, 
her  dead  ! 


192  The  New  World. 

XVI. 

But  newer  griefs  assail  her,  lust  of  gold, 

The  greed  that  would  have  all  the  world  its 

own 
And  silences  its  ear  to  sound  of  moan 
Falling  from  lips  of  victim,  savage  hold 
Of  temporal  goods,  that  grows  an  uncontrolled 

And  never-ending  madness,  these  grim  ills 
Sprang  up  around  her,  taunting,  scornful,  bold; 
Whither  have  fled  the  stern  and  potent  wills 
Who  knew  to  curb  the  brood 
Of  evil-doers  rude  ? 
Shine    forth    with    glance  of   perfect   scorn 

which  kills, 
O  Titaness,  and  from  the  hand  that  tills 
These  monstrous  fields,    strike  the    ill-gotten 

gain, 
Be  loud  upon  them  and  transform,  restrain, 
Show  forth  the   double  crime,  the  land  nor  grows 

nor  lives, 
Which  learns  not  how  to  steer  'twixt  such  alter- 
natives. 

xvn. 

Why  should  the  hungry  poor  groan  in  your 

borders, 
And   toil   raise  gaunt  and  angry  hands  of 

appeal 
For  wiser  guerdon  from  the  commonweal  ? 


The  New  World.  193 

Shall  you    be   blamed    like    those    whom  the 

recorders 
Write  in  the  Book  of  Grief  as  vain  awarders 
Of  the  great  good  which  is  the  lot  of  all  ? 
Nay,   Mother,   help  ;    surely  your  deep    skill 
orders 
Your  realm  so  that  the  noblest  issues  fall 
Unto  your  diverse  sons  ? 
What  lack  of  memory  runs 
Through   your  tense  soul  that  you  should 

fail  to  call 
Your  note  of  warning  through  your  land's 
wide  hall  ? 
Graceless  to  grasp  for  more  than  is  of  use, 
And  give  to  greed  a  limitless  abuse  ; 
Find  way  to  make  your  equal  sons  by  right  and  law 
Partakers  of  yourself  and  sharers  of  your  awe  ! 

XVIII. 

Lo  !  at  the  portal  stands  the  Angel  Love, 
The  morning  of  her  presence  casts  before 
An  opulent  radiance  from  shore  to  shore, 

Responsive  to  the  light  of  life  above, 

And  the  roused  land  grows  cognizant  thereof  ; 
She  stands  upon   the  threshold,  she  would 
serve 

What  her  dear  heart  can  yearn  for  not  enough, 

Fair  sights  from  which  her  firm  eyes  will  not 

swerve  ; 

She  would  cast  out  forever 
13 


194  The  New  World. 

The  demon  who  can  sever 
The  hands  of  men,  make  her  own  life  the 

nerve 
Of  all  familiar  acts,  hold  in  its  curve 
Of  glad  ascent,  pure  deeds  and  strong  desires, 
Tread  under  foot  fast-smouldering  envy's  fires, 
Withhold  from  grasp  of  aught  that  better  feeds 

another 
The    strength    that  is  in  truth   as  name  to   all  a 
brother. 

XIX. 

The  land  thrills  with  an  impulse  as  of  spring, 
New  fountains  bubble  underneath  the  soil, 
New  dreams  of  peace  float  through  the  night 
of  toil, 
New  melodies  begin  to  soar  and  sing 
Within  the  regions  of  grim  suffering  ; 

Unto  a  newer  height  the  goddess  leads, 
Where  brighter  blooms  their  sweeter  fragrance 
fling 
Over  warm  reaches  of  benignant  meads  ; 
The  path  before  us  dim 
Lies  in  the  twilight's  rim  ; 
Soon  the  new  sun  will  cast  from  him  the 

weeds 
That    yet    enshroud    him,   and   a  day  that 
breeds 
A  deeper  love  vanquish  the  dark  anew, 
A  spiritual  day  with  skies  of  singing  blue, 


The  New  World.  195 

A  sea  of  spirit  isled  with  souls  around  whom  flow 
The  everlasting  streams  full  of  meridian  glow. 


xx. 


Fronting  the  abyss  with  smile  and  brow  serene, 
The  new  man  comes,  self-poised,  self-equal, 

firm, 
Not  held  within  the  narrowing  senses'  term, 
Not  bound  in  chains  of  things  but  touched 

and  seen  ; 
Faith  opens  outlooks  past  the  vaporous  screen 
Of  time,  and  the  whole  world  lies  bathed  in 
light  ; 
His  courage  is  uplifting  and  his  keen 

Ardors    endow    the    weak    with    his    life's 
height  ; 

The  stars,  his  charioteers, 
Bring  truths  from  utmost  spheres  ; 
All  fears  lie  dead  before  him,  thought  and 

might 
Obey  him,  and  his  sun  is  love  and  right  ; 
Victory  calls  him  hers,  and  lofty  joy, 
The  night  and  day  vicissitudes  employ 
For  him,  the  sea  and  air  are  subject  to  his  nod, 
And  his  divining  eyes  gaze  up  and  look  on  God  ! 

XXI. 

Here  in  these  waiting  days  I  raise  my  song, 
Catching  far  gleams  from  what  is  sure  to  be  ; 


196  The  New  World. 

As  one  who  hears  the  unsighted  sonorous 
sea, 
And  the  live  pulses  in  him  fiercely  long 
To  mix  with  those  glad  pulses  and  the  strong 

World-circling  flow,  I  reach  forth  to  the  hour 
When  subjugate  the  old  tyranny  of  wrong 
Will  range  itself  beside   love's    conquering 
power  ; 

These  accents  poor  and  faint 
But  dimly  limn  and  paint 
The  centuries-crescent  aloe  in  mid  flower  ; 
Ah,  that  a  poet  of  the  supreme  dower, 
A  poet  such  as  earlier  periods  had, 
Or  full-voiced  singer  as  will  surely  glad 
The  expanses  of  the  future  would  build  up   the 

theme, 
And  fashion    forth    the   wonder   of   the    truthful 
dream  ! 

XXII. 

Be   glad,   O  land,   fling   your   bright  banners 
free, 

Rejoice  as  never  land  rejoiced  yet, 

All  injuries  forgive,  all  woes  forget, 
Send  your  acclaim  from  summer  sea  to  sea, 
Here  at  this  tide  happy  and  proud  are  we  ! 

Honor  his  heart  with  far  heard  gratitude, 
Who  knew  you  through  the  gloom  and  mystery, 

Which  held  and  swayed  you  from  the  first 
indued  ! 


The  New  World.  197 

Let  not  one  voice  upraise 
An  accent  other  than  praise  ! 
O  sleepless  vigor  with  intent  imbued 
To  erect  a  peace  in  place  of  old  world  feud! 
Bring  from  the  fruitful  south  and  stalwart  north 
Your  numberless  array  of  treasures  forth  ! 
Build  the  white  halls  of  beauty  and  within  them  store 
Marvels  of  thought  and  hand  from  every  clime  and 
shore ! 


XXII. 

Also  call  forth  from  the  high-laboring  earth 
The  wisest  and  the  farthest  reaching  minds, 
The  manifold  insight  that  forever  finds 
The  deepening  truths  of  more  embracing  worth, 
Who  are  the  masters  of  the  encircling  mirth 

In  which  ideas  rise  and  move  and  dwell, 
Who  watch  in  spiritual  skies  the  pauseless  birth 
Of  stars  whose  lordships  are  invincible  ; 
Not  in  the  pompous  past 
Has  astroscope  been  cast 
Of  richer  presage,  and  on  no  time  fell 
A  lovelier  laughter,  more  enduring  spell ; 
The  earth  is  harnessed  to  the  care  of  man, 
The  air  will  soon  upbear  his  caravan  ; 
Towards  the  bold  conquests  hearts  and  eyes  are 

fixed  and  bent, 
Fresh  fragrant  winds  from  the  far  vales  are  blown 
and  sent. 


198  The  New  World. 

XXIV. 

Has  Beauty  fled  the  earth  ?  Had  Greece  alone 

Or  the  great  age  when  from  the  painted  wall 

The  thunders  of  the  judgment  seemed  to  fall 

The  charm  to  win  her  ?    shall  the  sculptured 

stone 
Or  forest  pile  of  marble,  luminous  grown 

With  the  pure  sense  of  love,  arise  no  more  ? 
Nay,  half  her  magic  has  not  yet  been  shown, 
And  she  will  glow  far  dearer  than  before  ! 
Nay,  if  she  only  wear 
Her  uncrowned  floating  hair, 
No  more  a  queen,  but  woman  to  adore, 
Yet  must  her  dreams  be  truer,  farther  soar  ; 
Sweetest  of  messengers  from  the  far  skies, 
The  untrembling  light  of  truth  within  her  eyes, 
The  veilless  soul  of  man  as  ne'er  in  ages  past 
Shall  by  her  touch  in  finer,  fairer  forms  be  cast  ! 

xxv. 

The  Faiths  to  whom  were  given  the  sacred  keys 
Of  heaven,  and  who  by  different  mountain 

ways 
Led  upward  to  the  self-same  goal  of  praise, 
Each  deeming  that  the  opened  mysteries 
Were  hers  alone,  and  that  the  golden  breeze 
Blown  through  the  tree  of  life  touched  but 
such  brows 
As  bore  her  sign,  shall  mingle  hands  and  seize 


The  New  World.  199 

With  tears  the  illumination  which  allows 
The  achievement  unto  each 
For  which  earth's  prayers  beseech  ; 
Unto  the  one  white  Light  arise  all  vows, 
The  one  white  Radiance  punctually  endows 
The  creatures  everywhere  with  his  own  life, 
And  joy  which  hath  calm  purity  for  wife 
Shines  in  the  many-gated  city  when  the  song 
Resounds  to  greet  each  wayworn  and  victorious 
throng. 

XXVI. 

And  Supreme  Thought  who  calls  the  world 

her  own, 

And  passes  things  and  life  in  full  review, 

And  gains  the  old  truth  that  is  ever  new, 

Freedom's    best    guide    and    counsellor  hath 

grown ; 
There  are  no  fields  which  her  seed  hath  not 
sown, 
There  are  no  heights  which  her  feet  may 
not  climb, 
There  are  no  dreams  which  must  not  hers  be 
known, 
There  are  no  glooms  for  her  in  any  time  ; 
Arranger  of  all  life, 
And  mistress  over  strife, 
She  sets  the  stars  in  melody  and  rhyme, 
And   makes   the   periods   with  each   other 
chime  ; 


200  The  New  World. 

Pouring  her  hopes  into  the  dark  recesses, 
Thridding  her  way  through  the  vague  wilder- 
nesses, 
She  fashions,  rules,  designs,  and  dwells  within  the 

light, 
Which  is  the  heart  of  hearts,  and  very  sight  of 
sight. 


O  fair  republics  of  the  warmer  sun, 

O  sister  states  rejoice  amid  your  flowers, 
And  take  with  us  the  higher-hearted  hours 
That  point  to  destinies  but  half  begun 
And  grandeurs  from  the  urgent  future  won  ; 

Join  hands  with  us  in  this  our  triumph  tide, 
Send  forth  the  tones  in  deep-based  unison 
With  Freedom's  chorus  which  is  close  allied 
To  the  rapt  song  that  springs 
From  planetary  rings  ; 
Here  on  the  stormy  ocean's  hither  side 
We  all  will  say  that  room  must  be  denied 
To  aught  that  savors  of  a  king  or  crown  ; 
And  you,  our  sister,  underneath  the  frown 
Of  colder  skies,  take  part  in  our  mid  revelry, 
And  greeting  send  to  her  across  the  southern  sea  ! 


Into  the  future  one  more  forward  glance  ! 
Raise  your  great  brows,  O  Titaness,  and  call 


The  New  World.  201 

Over  to  Europe's  millions  ;    let  from  your 
lips  fall 
The  sound  that  bursts  the  agonizing  trance, 
The  message  that  evokes  the  swift  advance  ; 
Bid  war  disarm,  and  cast  his  helmet  down 
And  show  within  his  wrathless  eyes'  expanse 
The  love  which  lurks   behind  his  fleeting 
frown  ; 

Bring  nearer  the  glad  hour 
Of  congregated  power  ! 
•    Speed  you  the  federated  world,  the  crown 
Of   time's    endeavor  !    speed  !    so    hill  and 
town 
May  answer  back  the  rich  intelligence, 
The  song  that  ravishes  both  soul  and  sense, 
The  friendship  of  the  nations,  and  the  end  attained 
For  which  the   tears  were  shed,  the  ground  with 
blood  was  stained  ! 

XXIX. 

And  those  who  are  the  ages'  children  yet,        % 
The  wandering  tribes  who   vaguely  dream 

and  brood, 
Held  in  the  bondage  of  an  earth-born  mood, 
By  foes  within  and  foes  without  beset, 
Let  not  the  pity  of  the  world  forget  ; 

Shed  light  through  their  grim  darkness  and 
uplift 
To  generous  manhood  ;  where  the  woods  are 
wet 


202  The  New  World. 

With  dew  that  is  not  morning's  tremulous 
gift, 

Bring  strength  and  lamplike  peace 
Whose  lustre  must  increase 
Over   the  earth  ;    with    footsteps  light  and 

swift 
Let  the  soft  influence  fleet  ;  into  the  drift 
Lead  the  cleansed  streams  of  hope  and  trust 

and  thought 
Until  the  conquest  is  more  surely  wrought, 
And  love  and  good  fulfill  the  time,  and  everywhere 
A  freeman  raises  hand  and  brow  unto  the  air  ! 

XXX. 

One  vision  more  !  the  spiritual  city  lies 
Beneath  the  sun  ;  the  all-subduing  love 
Inhabits  there  as  in  the  realms  above  ; 
As  lordly  as  the  blue  unclouded  skies 
Life  passes,  and  the  mighty  dawn's  surmise 
Reaches  completion,  and  the  deeps  on  deeps 
?         Of  spirit  which  are  seen  alone  of  eyes 

Whose  watch  is  kin  to  power  that  never  sleeps 
Are  more  and  more  revealed  ; 
The  innermost  heavens  unsealed 
Comfort  the  heart  where  no  more  anguish 

weeps, 
And  open  fields  which  faith  forever  reaps  ; 
The  truth  shines   everywhere    and   strenuous 

right 
Souls  every  deed  with  its  transcendent  light  ; 


The  Neti)  World.  203 

The  winds  are  song  itself,  the  hours  are  radiance- 
fleet, 
And  fear  of  death  is  not,  and  every  toil  is  sweet ! 

XXXI. 

God's  Thought  rose  clear  before  him  and  he 
said  : 
"  Lo  !  I  have  fashioned  for  mine  eyes  to  see 
The  mighty  miracle  of  Liberty  ; 
Unto  my  will  have  many  wills  been  wed, 
With  mine  own  light  have  lesser  lives  been  fed, 
With  mine  own  being  filled  and  wondrous 
fire, 
The  increasing  light  by  which  all  hearts  are  led 
Unto  the  summit  of  supreme  desire  ; 
From  glowering  suns  and  stars, 
From  elemental  wars, 
From  interflux  of  powers  and  savage  ire 
That  bid  the  engirding  night  pause  and  ad- 
mire, 
From  anguish  and  despair,  the  wordless  brood 
That  fills  the  expanse  of  forests  primal-rude, 
I  have  brought  forth  that   mine  unenvying  soul 

might  know 
The  lofty  love  wherewith  but  Freedom's  self  can 
glow  !  " 

THE    END. 


J.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CD353DDfifiO 


